DragonBall: Red Ribbon War
by MariSkep
Summary: Within West City there is more than safety; there is food, shelter, art, and the growing number of wonders produced by Capsule Corp. But outside the Red Ribbon Army marches, swallowing up villages and destroying those they can't. Someday even West City will fall to their jackboots. Which is why Bulma finds herself in the middle of the woods chasing a legend.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I very clearly do not own DragonBall or its many many characters. I am making no money off this either. Please don't sue. I have like 12 dollars on me._

 _Premise: Bulma decides she'll rid the world of the Red Ribbon Army! How? By finding seven magical balls and wishing for a mighty hunk of a savior of course!_

 _This is AU in that the universe is slightly different than in canon. That said it's closer to For Want of a Nail although it'd probably be a few nails in this case. And no none of them are the Namekian. I want to fool around with the idea of Saiyan biology so the shipping in this might be weird. That is of course if I make it out of the Red Ribbon Saga._

* * *

"When the heat breaks thirty degrees it pays to dress slutty. A more conservative girl would be decked out in full sleeves and long pants. Me, I get by with a frilly pink cocktail dress too short to really cover my ass. There are downsides, of course. No human invention is without them. Because I'll be damned if I sit perfectly straight while riding my bike across a hundred odd kilometers of thick forests, I'm giving every little woodland beastie an upskirt shot. But that's a minor thing. This thing I'm doing- this quest- is important… and pretty much completely nuts. Seven magical spheres that summon the dragon god who'll grant any wish? Yeah, it sounds farfetched but, you see, I held one. Held it in the palm of my hand same as I've held a beaker or a test tube. They're real. I bought it off an old cat-morph back when I was twelve. The ball… called to me. I walked miles and miles through West City, all the way out to the outskirts where the latest batch of refugees were being held until the new settlement homes could be built. There he was, looking to peddle trinkets and baubles to anyone willing to buy.

"I was willing."

Bulma clicked stop on her camera. She'd found a clearing where the grass would graze against her navel if she tried to walk across it. There were no animals here. Bulma had blared sirens for the last half mile to make sure the path (what little of it there was) would be clear. Squirrels, lynxes, deer, had all scattered every which way fearing some great new monster had chosen to call the forest home. They were as scared now as Bulma had been before she was deep into the woods. Red Ribbon patrols weren't many but they were always looking for opportunity. And when she stretched her eyes, she saw great wide stumps buried in the sea of prickly green grass. Too evenly cut to be anything but the work of a human. Perhaps there was a Red Ribbon outpost nearby and the dragonball was in it? Bulma thought for a minute. No. Remote outposts weren't the Red Ribbon Army's style. Too far away from roads and supply lines. A helicopter might get in or out but to what end?

The heat was against her again. Sweat stained the pits of her dress and made her grateful wind could get under the skirt without trouble. "Predators in this region are supposed to be primarily nocturnal with the prey species diurnal. So, it's safest to travel during the day. I mean, of course it is. All I have to worry about during daytime is heat stroke and who's that ever killed?" Bulma put the camera into one of her motorcycle's side compartments and took out the dragonball radar she'd gotten working the month prior. She was about another half kilometer off. "Let's just find this thing so I can take a bath. Two baths. No seven! Seven baths! One for each of the dragonballs. Ha!" It was then, as Bulma went to turn her bike back own, that she saw something poking out over the tall grass. Bobbing up and down slowly, the tip of a fuzzy brown tail was visible for one brief moment before dipping down back down. This repeated thrice more always in a different place and different distance from Bulma. Sometimes closer but sometimes also further. "Is this a family of lemurs?" the girl said aloud before the world began to spin. Something sent her tumbling off her hoverbike and onto the ground bellow. "Oof!"

"What're you doing in my forest?!" Bulma looked up from her position to see a wild haired boy pointing a bo staff at her. "Well!" She let out a sigh.

"Not much of a gentleman, are you?" Bulma sat up. The ground was soft enough that despite the fall nothing hurt. Aside from catching a dozen reeds in her dress she was in the same shape as she had been moments ago.

"The Red Ribbon Army isn't welcome here!" The teen's ears perked up.

"Huh? Oh!" Bulma laughed. "I'm not with them. My name's Bulma. Pleased to meet you." The boy frowned. His eyes narrowed and he raised his staff. "You know, this is the wrong way to treat attractive young women. You should be offering to help me up and apologizing for threatening me. We're such delicate creatures a fall like that could really hurt."

"I'm Son Goku and you look fine to me," the boy said more confused than terse.

"Well of course I'm fine. That was never in dispute." Bulma laughed again. She stood and twirled in place. "I mean look at all this."

"Are you… ok?" Goku's frown had shed the signs of suspicion and grown into one of concern. He returned his staff to its place on his back and walked up to Bulma. As he came better into view the girl noticed two things. The first, and most glaring, was a long brown tail growing out of him. While no expert in anatomy, Bulma knew enough of taxidermy (a morbid pastime of her aunt) to know the real deal and that had to be it. The second thing she noticed was that the small boy was as thick as a boar. He looked like he could pick up those men in muscle magazines and toss them around like ragdolls. The only bodies Bulma had ever seen like that were on veteran wrestlers and master judokas.

"I thought we'd agreed I was fine. Hey, kid, I've got a job for you. I'll pay you 5000 zeni for it."

Goku blinked. "Ze-ni?" he repeated back at her. "That's… money right?"

"Yes! Of course, it's money. What else could it be?"

"I'm sorry but I don't use money." The boy was smiling now. It was an infectious thing that spread across his whole face until it was one great beaming orb with too much hair on top. "There aren't any people here to give it to."

"Uh, yeah. Well… is there anything else you'd like? I really need help." Bulma put on her best pout. Whereas Goku's smile spread like a nerve agent, her pout hit like a ram. It was the sort of thing that left you breathless and aching and that running from only made worse. The pout was enough to make Goku stop his circle around Bulma. "So please…"

He swallowed. "You're a… girl, right? Grandpa Gohan always said to treat girls nice so I'll help."

"Great! I need to find a smooth, even path out of these woods. I managed on my bike but it was complete hell on her. I would've been better off with an oldschool motorbike but didn't realize just how bad a trek through the woods could be." All of this was said very fast and declaratively, as Bulma expected no questions or need to elaborate. She pressed a button on her bike and the machine collapsed in on itself until it was a tiny blue capsule with a miniature knob on one end. "But first there's something in this forest I need to find. It's an orangish ball that looks like it's made of glass. There'll be stars on it- Are you ok?"

"Are you a witch?!" Goku had his bo staff in his hands and had lept back several feet. Somehow the staff had bridged the distance and was almost under her nose. "How did you make that- whatever it was disappear?!"

"Not this again! Didn't your grandpa tell you to be nice to girls?"

"I'm not trusting a witch!"

"Why does everyone do this? They see something strange or surprising, and- bam! Bring out the big guns. Time go gung-ho on this ass! They can't just take a minute and try to appreciate this new thing they've found. Oh sure, they'll say it's because strange things might be threatening. Bulma, don't you know it's _natural_ to want to protect yourself? It's natural to follow a crowd but you know not to do it in a burning building. And who says it's natural anyway?"

Goku watched her go on for several more minutes. Somewhere in the middle of her rant he'd put away his bo staff and sat down. It being mid-day the grasshoppers were full of energy. It was a good time to work on his reflexes and catch bait for his next fishing trip. They were quick but Goku was quicker. In one motion he'd snatch a hopper, jam it through the head of a bottle, then plug the bottle with his thumb. This happen five times before Bulma took notice. "What're you doing?" she asked kneeling next to the boy.

"Catching bait. You know, you argue with yourself a lot. I thought those jokes in grandpa's magazines were dumb but you're practically one of those girls from the centerfolds."

Bulma went to flick one of Goku's ears. "Shut up." The boy smiled up at her as he moved his head away from her hand. "I thought your grandpa was a gentleman but I guess he's as dirty an old man as my father. And how are you so good at that?"

"Grandpa always told me to work martial arts training into everything I do," Goku said nodding. He's jaw tightened as he nodded in a way that made Bulma connect "told" and "said." "But also he-" Goku suddenly stopped talking and stood up. He looked right into the girl's eyes for the first time since their meeting as if looking for something specific. This startled Bulma but not so much that she fell back again. She stared back unsure of whether she should break eye contact. After a minute Goku found what he was looking for and sat back down. "Grandpa found me catching bait one morning. It's easier to do it then," he explained. "The hoppers and cicadas are weighed down by the dew and the cold. They just sit there." Goku paused. He watched the critters jump around inside his bottle. "Anyway, Grandpa said it was something terrible no matter how necessary to take something's life. He said 'Goku, you are strong. Stronger than most. When you are grown, you will be even stronger than me. For the weak to kill an enemy when they are defenseless is natural. It is the only way they can. Weakness makes demands that should be forced on no one. But you are not weak Goku. And you must not deny your adversary his chance at life. I forbid you from catching these creatures in so cowardly a way. You will face them when they are strongest not when they are weakest.'"

The wind forced the tall grass to bow and pushed Bulma's ponytail away from her shoulders. She felt the coolness wash over her thighs. She let herself enjoy it. "Your grandfather was a very good man, Goku. And you've got one hell of a memory. I'm sure he'd be proud of how you turned out." The young boy took his thumb off the bottle. Out of it a dozen grasshoppers dashed out back into the woods. "Huh?"

"I'm strong enough to fish without them!" Goku was smiling again. This time while flexing a bicep. "Say, miss. Why do you want with these gold balls?"

"Well there's an old legend that says when you find all seven the dragon god appears to grant you anywish."

"And?"

"And I- I want to use them to wish for a savior." Bulma's head slumped. She felt distinctly as if their roles had reversed and Goku were now her senior. It wasn't a pleasant feeling and it made her face flush. "Look, it's not like I think that's what'll happen, ok? But they do something strange. A very strange force radiates from them and even if there isn't a dragon god at the end of this I want to study them better."

"Oh…" Goku went to his knees. He bent his waist in a deep bow mirroring the grass around him. "Grandpa left me one. It has four stars on it. He never told me about the dragon god but he said it was one of seven and that they were created by kami himself. He said I should protect it from bad people even if it means my death."

"Made by kami himself?" Bulma repeated back. "I hadn't heard that part. Did your grandpa tell you anything else? Where the others were or what else they can do?"

Goku shook his head. "He only knew where two more were. He said one was in the protection of his oldest friend and the other around the neck of his former master."

"That gives us four!" Bulma leapt up. Her body was tingling. This morning the hunt for the seven dragonballs looked like a winding road that might very well end at the end of a Red Ribbon rifle. But now, when she'd met a strange boy with a tail in the middle a vast forest, when he'd told her about how his grandfather entrusted one of them to him, and that supposedly two martial arts masters were carrying one apiece… There was an electricity in the air that made her pulse race. Every cell in her body was awake. "Goku, I-"

"Down!" Goku was standing again. His staff was firmly in his hand and his mouth was twisted the way a wolf's might be when face to face with a bobcat.

"Huh?"

"Down!" he repeated only this time he didn't wait for Bulma to respond. He jumped over her, striking out with his staff as he did so. Bulma fell backwards. Upside down she could see the small boy bring his weapon down with the force of a man ten times his size. She felt the blow like a sinking feeling in her stomache. Bulma watched herself watch as the grey beast cried out knowing its life was about to come to an end. With the added momentum and force of Goku's attack, there was no way he could stop his descent. When its skull inevitably collided with the grass just beside Bulma, the creature's neck snapped and his body went limp. Moved by instinct she didn't understand, Bulma turned her head to look at the dead thing. Meaningless facts and figures she'd once read came back to her. This thing was a pseudodactyl; a scientifically altered pteranodon. They'd been raised in captivity until two hundred years ago. They had a wing span of –

"Bulma!"

Goku's face was over hers now, covering the sun. The shade it created brought her out of her stupor. "Ugh. Yeah. Um. Thanks." Bulma stood slowly, deliberately, as if to assure herself and Goku that she was well. It wouldn't be until she reached her hoverbike that she dropped to a knee and began gasping for air.

"Easy, easy." Goku placed a hand on her knee. "Just take a minute."

One minute became two and then three but finally Bulma was able to breathe normally. "Oh god," she swore. "I am not fucking cut out for this." Goku couldn't tell if Bulma was about to laugh or cry so he did what his grandfather had always done.

"Looks like we get to eat good tonight!" Bulma looked over to the boy to see he was gesturing towards the dead beast with his thumb. "Let's get it back to my cabin. Wait until you've had one of its wings. They're not like birds, it's all skin but boy is it delicious. You wrap the actual meat in it and you can-"

"You're fucking nuts, Goku." Bulma was crying but the laughter told him she was indeed fine. "Holy fuck. Do your parents know what you get up to?"

Goku smiled. "Haven't got any. Grandpa Gohan raised me." Bulma raised a hand as if to say something but Goku continued talking. "I'm dead serious about these things. They're delicious if you cook 'em right. Come on. My place isn't far and you can have tea while I cook."

"Y-yeah. We can work out what to do next." Goku, carrying his kill on his Nyoi-bō, led the way talking the entire way. About what Bulma couldn't say. The sound of his voice just washed over her. There was so much of it Bulma had no time to think about anything. Which suited her fine. It gave her the moment of respite she needed to compose herself. "Goku," she interrupted. The boy turned his head to look at her. "How long have you been living on your own?"

"Only… three years… I think."

"You think?"

"Time's hard for me to remember sometimes. I-um- hit my head when I was a kid."

"Oh. Well that's not a big issue."

Goku spun on his heels. "What?"

"Brain damage. My mother was in an accident a few years ago and lost her short-term memory. So, the doctors did a scan of her brain and… ok I'm not a neurologist so the exact mechanisms are a bit outside of my expertise but basically, they stitched her brain back together. There were supposed to be five rounds of the stuff but my mom quit at three. She was tired of all the pills and migraines. All she is now is a little forgetful and she was always so ditzy I don't think anyone's noticed there's been a change except for me and dad."

The boy's face fell but then suddenly brightened. "But-but you could scan it right? And see how it worked? Like if… someone had issues… controlling themselves or-"

Bulma blinked. "He'd see a therapist." Goku's frown returned. "But… it is possible to alter behavior with certain surgeries- I mean that stuff's really morally questionable and most doctors will take you to take a hike."

"Take a hike?"

"Same as get lost. It's another way of saying no when someone asks you to do something. Why do you want to know all this anyway? Memory lapses don't have anything to do with altering your personality."

"No, no it doesn't." Goku turned back to the road. He kicked a small stone up to his face and balanced it on his nose as he walked.

The shock from before finally truly out of her system, Bulma wondered how it was Goku could remember in such detail what his grandfather had said but struggle with keeping track of the years. Perhaps it was something the old man had told him on his death bed. Then wouldn't the date of that time too have been burned into his psyche? In any case, there was only one thought in her mind that she felt comfortable sharing. "You're a weird kid, Goku."

So he was.

It was now Bulma's turn to talk as they walked. She told Goku about Capsule Corp, her father's many genius discoveries, and how he'd put that all to use to turn her hometown into a utopia in this "fucked up God forsaken hellhole we call a planet." West City, as Bulma proudly told Goku, had eliminated hunger, poverty, and need. Whatever the Red Ribbon Army was doing elsewhere the people of West City were safe thanks to her father's fantastic inventions and the city's guard watch. It was one of the last truly free cities left. "Everyone else just caves to what the Red Ribbon wants."

"What do they ask for?"

"Oh- well it depends on the city but it's almost always the same stuff; money, supplies, fuel, and machinery. From what the newspapers and dad tell me they'll also kidnap doctors and medical personnel. Their soldiers are always getting hurt, what with the whole, expansionist superpower thing, and their science departments are geared almost exclusively towards robotics and weaponry. Which is actually a stroke of luck. Can imagine those monsters messing around with medicine or biology?" Bulma saw Goku trying to mouth the word biology. "Ok well trust me it'd be bad. Zombie apocalypse bad."

"What's a zombie?"

"It's a person who's dead and their body is rotting but they're still walking around. In the movies, the only way to kill them is by shooting them in the head. They're really slow and go 'Uggggggghhhhh' everwhere."

Goku shook his head. "How is that worse than the Red Ribbon Army?"

"It's-" Bulma stopped. "-probably not. Zombies are just a monster story. I guess when you can kill flying dinosaurs, monsters don't seem that scary." They smiled at each other. "But they're still scary for the rest of us.

"Anyway. The big cities at least have the means to support themselves even with The Red Ribbon making so many demands. Small towns and villages too far away from a main city might disappeare overnight. Either because some Red Ribbon colonel wants to test a new weapon or because some other colonel needed workers to build a base. It's… pretty bad, Goku."

"Which is why you need the seven dragonballs. To wish for your hero, right?"

"And to make sure he's good looking!"

"Huh?"

"You heard me. It's like that song. I'm holding out for a hero and with just seven balls I can make him a maaaaaaaaan!"

Bulma was now pointing dramatically. Goku followed the path of her finger but couldn't see anything especially noteworthy at the end. He looked up at the strange blue haired girl. She wasn't… what he expected in a savior but he would follow her regardless. He had promised his grandfather as much. "'Only part with the dragonball when you find someone noble and pure of heart. Follow them and see that no harm comes to them on their quest.' I'll make you proud, Grandpa."

"Did you say something, Goku?"

"Oh, nothing. Sorry. We're just about home."

"I know what you're thinking. 'Oh, Bulma, so you really aren't so noble. This is all about getting some M.A.N. in your V.A.G.' Well let me tell you something, mister. I'm the one going on this quest and if we've got to have a hero why shouldn't he be tall, well-muscled, and with long flowing curly locks? And if you were tall and well-muscled with long flowing locks, you'd want to hook up with some hot young thing, right? I'm a hot young thing! So it isn't that I'm wishing for a boyfriend. It's that the guy I'm going to wish for- who will save us all from the Red Ribbon Army- will want to be my boyfriend!"

"Grandpa, I think the savior may be crazy."

* * *

That's the first chapter. Read, review, flame, do what makes you happy. So long as you're not, I dunno, a serial killer I think 'do you' is good advice.

If you're a serial killer do the opposite of what makes you happy.


	2. Chapter 2

_I do not own DragonBall Z or any of the characters._

 _This is another shortish chapter. This time it's split into three small scenes involving Goku and Bulma all within the same afternoon. There'll be more action from here on out. Updates from here on out will probably be once every two weeks._

* * *

Son Gohan's hut was spartan in the strictest sense of the adjective if not the noun. There was only one floor and the roof was covered in thatched together shrubbery. Wood was neatly stacked to one side on a stone platform a few centimeters high. To Bulma the stones looked as if they had been hand cut, not being quite square enough to be machine made.

She reminded herself that this may be literally true. If the stories about Goku's grandfather were to be believed at least.

Inside there was a single space for cooking, a small fire pit in the center of the room with a large pot suspended over it. Blankets lay neatly stacked over a bedroll close enough to stoke the flames if you sat upright in them. All around the one small room hung various herbs and plants, some from nets but others just suspended in the air by a single thread. One in particular, which hung over the door, had smelled familiar. Bulma couldn't place the scent but it reminded her of the perfumes her mother used and the incense her aunt would burn at night. It had made her feel at ease, enough so that she didn't mind that there was no furniture for her to sit on. Like anywhere else she went, Bulma first sought out comfort and then books. The room was so small they weren't hard to find. Goku had laid them all out beside his bedroll.

"Wonder what the super he-man boywonder has been reading." She walked around the fire and to the bedroll Goku slept in. There was a pungent smell around his sheets only not the kind she normally associated with a boy's room. It wasn't nearly as unpleasant either. Bulma found she didn't need to ignore it to feel comfortable. "'Romance of the Three Kingdoms,'" Bulma read the title aloud. "This looks like a really old copy. And I can see from the spine it's been used a lot. Maybe it's one of Goku's favorites? Really weird reading for such a small kid. What else has he got? 'Art of War' in keeping with our theme of really old martial arts shit. This stuff belongs in a Shaolin temple. Book on Taoism…Oooh 'Beowulf.'" Bulma smelled the cover. "You're the youngest thing here, aren't you? Hmm…You also seem to be breaking the theme. You sure you're in the right place?"

"Who're you talking to?" Goku was standing in the doorway. Over his blue tunic was a bloody smock and in his righthand a thick meat cleaver. After reminding herself that she had heard no banjos playing and that Goku really was preparing their meal, Bulma smiled at him from where she sat.

"The books. You read way above your age group, Goku."

Goku walked over to the large pot in the center of the room and grabbed it with his free hand. "They were my grandpa's. He made me read them as part of my training." After placing the pot on the floor Goku jumped up. Bulma saw him grab something that's been hanging in a net.

"What's Beowulf got to do with martial arts?"

"What to do with power." Goku dropped the small plants into the pot. "Beowulf is stronger than anyone else but he never tries to hurt them. Inside he's always looking for more battle but he never lets that make him do something wrong." The boy nodded and Bulma smiled.

"Your grandfather taught you a lot, huh, Goku?"

"Everything."

Bulma watched him leave. She thought about her father and her mother. He had been 53 when she was born. Not a blue hair on his head even then. Her mother wasn't a scientist nor could she follow what her father was talking about half the time. But she would stay up with Bulma into the long hours of the night stowed away in his study or one of his many lab rooms just to listen to the man. In those hours right after he had finally been able to settle every phone call and problem West City had for him. Could the man talk! Theorems, horror stories of mismanaged labs, unethical experiment sites, whatever would come to his head. Even with her father's formulaic sage advice those were good evenings.

"What was it you said, dad? 'Don't mistake science for truth. Every theory and law in those books are wrong. Perhaps not by as great a degree as what we believed centuries ago but wrong nevertheless. My colleagues in biology cannot go a year without updating their taxonomic groups, supergroups, and supgroups. To this day there is no good definition for 'species' despite its prominence both within the common and scientific lexicons. In my own field, we cannot reconcile the dominant theories upon which all our equipment and society is built upon. As a scientist, your duty is to propose explanations for phenomena and to craft paradigms to better fit these explanations. Science is a reliable wrench, one that can handle most problems. But most is not every and you can ruin a job by using the wrong tool, can't you?' Same damn thing you say at almost every commencement ceremony."

Back when she was barely older than what she imagined Goku to be now, Bulma would need to be told when to leave. Her mother would wriggle in Dr. Brief's lap until her husband smiled at her and then Bulma would be sent off to bed. To her shame, it'd taken Bulma until puberty to realize why that was. Or why her mother told her that while they both liked to sit on the old man's lap, Bulma would outgrow her love of it while Panchy would be doing it until he croaked. "Like I hadn't already sat through all those biology classes. I guess hoeing is a thing you need to see firsthand before you get it. No offense, mom." Panchy had been nineteen when she'd given birth to Bulma, a May December romance with all the baggage that brought. "I wonder how many times you got called gold digger. Not that you aren't but… none of those people ever saw you two together. The way he takes care of you or the way you touch him when he's asleep. Love is love."

"You still talking to yourself- I mean- to the books?" Goku was back with the pot. He hung it over the firepit and dropped some fresh kindling into place. He then went to grab a strange bow like tool from the corner of the room. "Didn't know they were such big talkers." The boy grinned up at her as he went about his work.

"Cheeky brat. Where's this dragonball your grandpa left you, anyway?"

Goku blew on the embers encouraging them to grow into something bigger. "Behind you. In that box." He didn't need to watch to know what would happen so he continued to stoke the fires until satisfied with the heat. Bulma would stand and walk over to the box. She'd feel the dragonball's aura and be compelled by a power she didn't understand to hold it in her hand. In the ball she would see herself staring back, an image that would mesmerize her. It'd been the same with Goku.

"What the fuck are these?!"

"Huh?" Goku looked across the fire to see Bulma clutching his grandfather's magazines. In tribute to the man, Goku had laid them next to his most valuable possession; the mystical artifact Son Gohan had devoted the last years of his life to protecting. "What's wrong?"

"What the fuck are these musty old porno mags doing next to a dragonball."

"Hey, easy with those. They were my grandpa's!"

"Yeah I bet. You are too young to have these, Goku. I'm confiscating them."

"Confu-what?"

"Confiscate. To take away from someone who isn't allowed something." True to her word Bulma gathered up the stack of magazines and dropped them into a safe she'd materialized from one of the capsules in her pocket book. "I'm putting them away in this safe. They'll be right next to the dragonballs." Bulma reached for Goku's four star ball to place besides her own three star ignoring that the boy was staring slack jawed at her. "You can't be looking at magazines like this, Goku. You're a child. Even grownups shouldn't look at them. At your age- Oh wow! Goku, come look!"

"You just said not to!" Savior or no, Goku was finding this much craziness in one person hard to cope with.

"Not the magazines! The dragonballs. Look! They're reacting to each other."

Inside Bulma's safe the four-star ball and the three-star ball had begun to glow. Together they emitted a low hiss as if some great lizard were trying to speak to them. But it only lasted a moment. Soon both balls had returned to their still, beautiful state. Bulma turned to Goku beaming. Goku turned to Bulma and did the same. Both felt the magic, heard the low hiss, and neither needed to say it aloud for the other to know it. As Goku rested a hand on the safe to say a silent prayer, Bulma fell backwards laughing.

"This is… really gonna happen," she said.

"Yeah." Goku thought of the last night he'd spent with his grandfather. Age had finally worn the mighty martial artist down but he left without regret. Afterall, he'd found an apprentice to carry on his legacy. Years ago, the old man had found a baby in a strange capsule out in the mountains in the dead of night. Like the Monkey King of legends, he'd come out of a rock awakening to a great emptiness. And so, Son Gohan had named the boy 'Goku.' Thinking of how it also fit his appetite made Goku smile. He would soon be leaving this mountain behind to unite all seven balls and rid the world of that evil so great even his grandfather wouldn't challenge it. This filled him with dread and fulfilment in equal measures. The task his grandfather had set would be accomplished and he, Goku, would no longer have that connection with him. He considered telling Bulma all this but instead said "Food should be ready in a bit." and went back to his memories.

* * *

After their meal, Bulma was regaling Goku with stories of her home in West City. She spoke with a passion that Goku found endearing even if he wasn't sure what a streetlight was or did. "When we get home, I'll have to buy you something to wear. We'll have to do it before we see my parents otherwise dad will have you running around in my old shorts. 'Clothes are clothes, Bulma! It's not like I'm giving the boy your mother's g-strings.'" Goku giggled. He didn't know what a g-string was and thought Bulma's father sensible but her impersonation was too silly not to laugh. From the finger she'd placed over her upper lip and the way she scrunched it when she spoke, Goku figured the man's most distinguishing feature had to be a mustache. "I'll get you something nice. Maybe not a suit since I don't think a he-man wonderboy like you is up for sitting still at a tailor's. Definitely something outdoorsy but what? Hmmm." Bulma finished the last of the meal in front of her. She let out a small yelp.

"Literally everything you made was delicious! When you grow up, Goku, that's gonna be a big selling point for your girlfriend." Bulma sprawled herself out across the floor, using Goku's many blankets and sheets as a cushion. Despite the heat outside and the fire inside, the draft going through Goku's little shack kept them both cool. To Bulma it was almost as good as air conditioning. "God, I think I'm about to burst."

"You eat even less than my grandpa." Bulma raised her head to see Goku popping another of those fried wing wrapped things he'd made into his mouth. "I dunno how you can eat so little and keep so much fat on you."

"I am not fat and don't talk with your mouth full!"

"Whadd'ya mean you're not fat? Look at those! That's not muscle."

"Breasts are supposed to be made up of fat and women- _everyone_ deposits fat around their thighs." Bulma had sat up and was pointing at Goku as a way to add emphasis to her words. "And I'm 92 58 91. You hear? Ninety-two centimeter bust, fifty-eight centimeter waist, and ninety-one centimeter hips. That's the kind all the boys want! Ok, so maybe it isn't exactly at my mother's level yet but I'm only sixteen! I have time to grow into it." Goku made a noncommittal noise. Something between a 'Hmm' and an 'Ahh.' "I am not fat," Bulma repeated. The two sat in silence for a moment. After the meal and laughter of earlier it was an unwelcome silence to both but it was Goku who broke it first.

"What's the big deal anyway?" he said in a way that made Bulma think he meant to ask something very different. "It's just fat."

"It's- ugh. I really don't think I can explain it, Goku. You grew up too far away from people to get why the things- why we're the way we are." It wasn't an answer and both knew it. "You'll be fine, Goku," Bulma said when she felt that unwanted silence returning. "Most people aren't as… you know… _extra_ as me. You'll get along great back home."

As she spoke Goku sipped his tea. He'd made it too hot, something Gohan had always told him to look out for. He waited a moment before finally answering. "I don't know if I want to," he said finally.

"Well… alright."

The draft going through the small shack rustled the many plants and herbs hanging over them. Bulma fidgeted where she sat. Somehow they made her itch even though none of them had touched her nor had anything fallen onto her skin. She started shuffling the sheets on which she sat but then stopped suddenly as if seeing something she didn't like. She stood up and made for the door. "I'm going to sleep. We can figure out what to do tomorrow. I need to run some scans anyway. Triple check that no drones are sending signals through this area."

"Huh?" Fast as he was, Goku didn't catch up to Bulma until she was already outside. "The sun hasn't set yet. Bulma. Bulma, you can stay in my place You don't have to sleep out here. I have plenty of blankets and another bedroll. There's-" A huge puff of smoke interrupted him. There was so much he couldn't see Bulma or any part of the place where she had been standing. "Bulma!" he called out. "Bulma!" Relying on his other senses, Goku rushed into the smoke, placing himself and his Nyoi-bō in front of whatever was coming for them. "Get back inside. Nyoi-bo! Extend!" In keeping with its name, the staff grew until it was double Goku's height. He swung it through the smoke shoving it away from the clearing. After the second stroke, he was left standing in the late afternoon sun in front of a circular two story home. "Eh?"

"What're you doing?" Bulma's hands were on her hips and her face was made up in a scowl. "Relax, Don Quixote, it's just a house. It's not about to gobble you up. Trust me. You can go ahead inside and see for yourself. It's got power, running water, ac, all that good stuff. There's even a fridge with ice cream in it."

"For someone who's not a witch, you sure do make things appear out of nowhere a lot. What's ice cream?"

"It's… ice cream. You take milk and… you know I don't actually know how ice cream is made? Anyway, it's cold and you eat it before it melts in your mouth."

"So it's like ice?"

"Yeah but, y'know, creamy."

"I guess that makes sense." The two stood across from each other, arms folded over their chests. Then each burst out into a fit of laughter that left them doubled over. "Lemme clean up around here and then I'll join you inside."

"I can't promise you I'll save any ice cream so make it quick."

"No problem!"

* * *

The tiles of Bulma's bathroom felt weird to Goku's toes. He had once seen white tiles like these in his grandfather's magazines and tried to imagine what sorts of sensations they'd create against his feet. He'd imagined polished rock, like that which sat on a river bank. Instead the small slabs felt as if smaller tinier rocks, all smooth, were embedded throughout them. Normally it would suit Goku fine, the floor had remarkably good traction. Were he to run here (something Bulma had told to not do) he was certain no turn would be too sharp or sudden for him. But the floor in this room was not natural. It was a testament to the power of West City that his toes would not let him ignore. Although the forest was all around them Goku was no longer in it. His hand traveled to his shoulder instinctively forgetting his staff was not there. He was nude except for a small white towel tied around his waist.

"Come sit." Goku looked at the blue haired girl to see she was pointing at a low stool in front of the one she herself sat on. "We haven't got all day, Goku." There was nothing left to do but as Bulma asked. Goku nodded removing his towel as he did so. There would be no brisk wind to worry about at the end of this bath and Goku caught himself missing it. Cold was many terrible things but after a bath it jarred the senses forcing him awake. The boy shook his head and went about folding his towel. It was then he heard Bulma squeak "Goku, how old are you?"

"Thirteen by what grandpa figured," he answered looking up to see horror creeping across Bulma's face. "What's wrong?"

"You can't be in here!" It was a loud shrieking declaration. One that, like much of today, left Goku completely unsure of how to respond.

"I- what?!"

"You have hair down there! You can't be in here."

"That doesn't make any sense. You have hair too!"

Bulma snapped her knees together. She was standing in what Goku thought the most awkward thing he'd ever seen. Her body was angled to the side with one arm over her breasts. The other was reaching frantically, almost blindly, for any towel on the rack behind her. If there was so much as a moderate breeze Goku was sure she'd topple over. "Yes, Goku, which is why you can't be in here. Geez. I thought you were ten or eleven maybe twelve but thirteen! Look, when boys and girls start growing hair in those places it means they can't just bathe together." In one motion Bulma managed to grab a towel, slip it over herself, and then prop both hands on her hips. The feat impressed Goku who whistled. "And that's why! Now cover up and get out."

Speaking in what he likely imagined was a very patient voice, Goku let Bulma know that he had always 'had hair down there.' That it was in fact her idea that they bathe together in the first place. That he was done with her craziness. And that since the water was already hot he wasn't going to let it go to waste. Bulma's rebuttable was only two points. The first, that she wasn't going to share a bath with a thirteen-year-old boy. And the second that if Goku did not immediately make tracks she was going to hose him down like the disrespectful little monkey he was. True to her word Bulma reached for a shower hose and began firing at full cylinders when Goku refused to budge. Surprised by the sudden burst of cold, Goku put both hands up to protect himself.

"Gah!"

"You were warned, Son Goku! Now my fury will be unleashed!"

"Crazy witch!" As he had predicted, even with all the water, the bathroom's floor provided perfect traction and Goku was able to close the distance between them in half a moment, coming to a stop when he was directly between her legs. Whether he used the moment from his sprint when he took hold of her ankle and sent her soaring into the air, Bulma did not know but she let out a high-pitched laugh regardless. Bulma fully expected him to catch her and it wasn't every day someone tossed her into the air as easily as she might a newborn. If nothing else it was an interesting experience. Of course, once he had caught her, Bulma was treated to the boy's mischievous grin. And once she saw that he was eyeing the bathtub her own intelligence filled in the rest

"Goku, no!"

"What's that, Bulma? Put ya down, you say? Ok!" With total ease Goku jerked Bulma over his head so that her back was resting on the palms of his two hands. Realizing all she could was stare up at the ceiling, Bulma prepared herself for the inevitable plunge. Being a gentleman, Goku let her down easy. She slid into the bathtub as smoothly as if she had gone in of her own power and it was only Goku's speed that prevented her from realizing the boy had taken the shower hose for himself. "Got your magic scepter!"

"Goku, no!" said Bulma forgetting how well her protests had worked before. "Oh my god, that's really cold!"

"Isn't it?!"

"I'm sorry!" Bulma managed somewhere in her fit of laughter.

"Oh, you will be!"

"Ahh! Being in a hot bath just makes it worse!"

"Hahahahaha!"

"Please, Goku. I need to finish my bath." When the hosing stopped Bulma put her hands down and sank into the water so that little aside from her head was visible. She fished out the towel that'd fallen into the tub with her and held it out for Goky. Still laughing, he eyed the soaked towel before reaching out to grab it. "Thanks. Now take this towel and the one you left on the floor and toss them in the dryer. It'll be the metal box in that room with the mop and broom. Remember it?" Goku nodded. "Turn the left dial to medium and set the right dial to forty minutes. I don't have any bathrobes in your size but you can grab one of my plain white T's out of the dresser. Not like it's a bra or anything." Goku smirked and made his way out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

Like the bathroom floor, the carpet was another thing alien to Goku's feet but this one he liked. It was as if someone had thought to spread a thin bedroll across the whole of the house. He could sleep in any corner of this place and that pleased him. So much that he was tempted to forget the bath all together, curl up into a ball outside the room Bulma had told him was the kitchen, and sleep until morning. Goku wouldn't. He would do as Bulma had asked but that he could was what really mattered. There was a freedom in it. A lack of resistance he wasn't accustomed to. No effort needed on his part at all. He need only lay down and a comfortable sleep would be his. A life of carpet and sleep was right here under him and that realization made him want to sprint across all of Mt Paozu. He wanted to force fire into his legs and hear his own heartbeat- to _feel_ _it_ like a drum through his whole frame.

But that would have to wait. Now he needed to dry these two towels. There would be time for it after.

Goku placed both towels in the dryer and set it to forty minutes like was asked of him. He listened to the machine hum unsure if that meant it was functioning properly. He would have to trust that it was. There was no way for him to know. Worrying would only lead to him forgetting what else he would need to do. From beside the dryer, Goku grabbed a mop. He'd seen Bulma use it to dry milk she'd spilled making the two of them this delicious snack called 'milkshakes.' The bathroom being wet as it was, Goku would do the same there. Still nude, he made his way back towards the stairwell pausing to marvel over the machines wedged away into a corner of the living room. Bulma had peered into the glass of one and been able to tell him that the Red Ribbon Army wasn't within two hundred kilometers of their location except for a band of a few dozen. All Goku could see was green dots and strange swiggly lines.

It was magic as secret to him as the dragonballs and the beams of energy his grandfather could create. Bulma at least had promised to teach him how her own magic- _science_ as she'd insisted on calling it- worked. He realized, given how long his own training under Son Gohan had lasted, Bulma would hardly be able to train him properly while on the road. But he hoped to master enough to be of help to her in working these machines. Together they had decided to intercept the nearby Red Ribbon stragglers. Bulma had said they would have information on the larger forces and that information could make their trip much safer. Goku saw the wisdom in this but in truth he wished to test the power of their war machines against his own.

Outside a wolf howled under a waning moon. It was not yet a crescent.

There would be another twenty-five days before a fullmoon.

* * *

 _This version of Goku never had the brain injury as a child. I'm trying to work out just how much of canon Goku was Grandpa Gohan and how much was trauma. We see with Vegeta that it's possible for a Saiyan to not be blood thirsty and that was with a full grown adult. This make me inclined to think if Gohan had had to deal with 'Kakarot' he'd have managed to raise something not too different from the Goku we got in the manga._

 _Let me know if the humor worked/was cute or if it was grating and obnoxious._


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I still don't own DBZ and my many hairbrained schemes haven't brought me any closer to reaching this goal._

 _Originally this chapter ran up to 7k words but I decided to cut the extra 3k off and turn that into the next chapter. I'm also bumping up the rating from T to M because of that chapter. Thanks for reading._

* * *

Cigarette smoke was disgusting. Unlike the fragrant pipe tobacco his grandfather had smoked, cigarettes offended the senses. So, glad as he was that their nicotine addiction gave away when a Red Ribbon soldier was approaching, Goku's nose resented the men and wished to just drive Nyoi-bō through their mouths and plug the stench.

"You know they say there's a giant monster that lives on that mountain." Goku looked to see who had spoken. It was a tall, lanky soldier with a long chin. Beside him was a much thicker man with a round face and fat cheeks. Goku moved as softly as he could through the light foliage. His forest would have provided much greater concealment than these skinny sticks trying to pass themselves off as trees. But he supposed that's why these men chose to build their camp so far from it. "No foolin'. One of our drones caught a picture of it. Damn thing looked like it coulda beat up King Kong and taken his lunch money." The skinny man laughed. Goku thought that must be the sound mule's make when you kicked them. He looked at the fatter man who was unbuttoning his trousers.

"Like an actual picture or…" He shook his cock out and Goku heard the unmistakable sound of urine against earth.

The skinny man fingered the pistol grip of his rifle. "Well it ain't the clearest picture." The fatter man snorted. "Wasn't like they were out looking for it was it, Ivy League? Just a recon trip that found something interesting. Hey, you done yet? Three shakes and you're playing with it."

"Hang on…" Ivy League shook his shoulders as if trying to stretch them. "God, damn it! Wearing that fucking flak jacket for so long killed my lower back. The whole left side is numb right now. I must've pinched a nerve."

"Bitch bitch bitch," the skinny man mocked.

"And you don't?"

"Not like you, Ivy League, not like you. I don't bitch about having to act like a soldier and I don't piss or moan until my job's done. Why nobody calls me shitbird."

"Well, that damn TEAMS is set up so _my_ job is done."

"You can say that, all you want, but we both know Corporal Smith is looking to snap someone's neck tonight and it ain't gonna be mine. You're still on his shit list from that time you fell asleep on watch, remember?"

It was now that Goku took out the special camera Bulma had given him. Aside from the list of things to photograph, she had told him to take note of anything that might be important. Goku did not know if the faces of all these soldiers was what she had had in mind but their equipment certainly had to be. They both seemed to be using the same model rifle, each on a one point sling. Around their waists were wide thick belts with magazine pouches on the left side of the buckle. The pouches were closed so Goku could not see the magazines in them but could tell from how strained the pouch flaps were that they must be there. Despite what Bulma had told him, Goku could see no grenade. This, he reasoned, may be because they had left them behind or because they were stowing them away in their pockets. But seeing what looked like an antenna sticking out of the skinny man's pocket made Goku doubt his second explanation.

"Fuck him," Ivy League said. He buttoned his trousers and turned to his companion. "The guy's a dick."

"Maybe. But he's survived out here a lot longer than most."

Ivy League laughed. "A lifer. That's what he is. He'll wear that Red Ribbon until he's old and grey. Watch. Twenty years from now he'll be on tv weeping because General Red let him kiss his feet. 'It was the single greatest moment of my life!'"

The skinny man joined him, his brays more grating to Goku's ears than any sound he'd heard before. It was too close to the full moon and anger was growing in him. "You right! You right!" The pair walked back to one of two large tents, two huge flood lights illuminating their path. There was a light at each end of the camp, and Goku was confident he could use them to his advantage. With so much of it, their pupils were sure to contract while his eyes would be conditioned to the dark. So long as he stayed just outside of whatever those floodlights touched he would be virtually invisible to the soldiers. Goku dashed across the camp on all fours like some animal, stopping when he came up next to a large vehicle. Each tire easily dwarfed Goku and its many metal plates gave it the look of an armored knight. He wondered why the Red Ribbon Army's vehicles didn't float on air as Bulma's did. Perhaps they just didn't have the type of magic she commanded.

Goku leaned his head away from the vehicle until the man seated on top of it was visible. Unlike the two soldiers he'd seen by the trees this one was pale, as if the sun were totally alien to his skin. The hardness of his jaw stood out and Goku made a note to seek him out if fighting started. From Bulma's many pictures, Goku knew the weapon mounted on the vehicle could rip apart a human in seconds so killing the man and destroying it would already be a priority. But his bearing made Goku eager for the confrontation.

They were at the edge of the camp. Further in Goku could see two large tents, the closest one being what the skinny man and the fat man had walked towards. There were maybe ten meters between them by Goku's estimate and two men stood outside them with flak jackets and helmets on. Goku observed that, except for the pale man, everything seemed to be done in pairs. That observation worried Goku. He inched his way up the vehicle, climbing the door until he was just under the window. From inside he could hear very slight rustling, as if someone were adjusting themselves. His suspicions confirmed Goku dropped back to the grass. Another thing to tell Bulma about the Red Ribbon Army. He made his way around the vehicle searching for the large antenna Bulma had instructed him to locate. She had said it could be one of many devices but that the likeliest would be a tall mast with small dishes arranged around just short of its peak.

It had had a very long name Goku didn't bother committing to memory. He doubted he would overhear anyone talking about it so the information felt superfluous. A picture was all he needed. And there it was. Held in place by what looked like a half dozen ropes, each fastened around a stake buried into the ground. Goku mapped a route towards it that would avoid the tents. With the two soldiers outside the tents now patrolling the grounds he need only stay just out of sight. As he crawled towards his objective Goku was reminded of Grendel coming upon Hrothgar's Danes. So many men asleep in their beds with only a token force ready in case of disaster. He shook his head. So far, this army did not impress him.

* * *

Dull green light illuminated Bulma. She sat reclining in a chair in front of a row of electronics, her long blue pony tail draped over the back of her seat. Her eyes looked through the side of the tent at somewhere far away as she gnawed at the end of her pen. Goku had not returned yet but Bulma knew he had been successful. For the last thirty minutes, she'd been privy to every communication coming into and out of the Red Ribbon camp. She glanced at the scribbles on her notepad, each one summarizing a different exchange. There were several but right now two in particular seemed to grow on the page. She'd drawn circles around them, reading them over and over in her mind.

\- Confirmation that the radio party had arrived at their destination and that communication was established.

\- Despite delay of the 3rd Infantry Battalion, no resistance had been found. Fears that whatever happened to past scouting parties would happen here were proved insubstantial.

Insubstantial. Bulma slid the word across the roof of her mouth. It sat on the tip of her tongue like the memory of a cigarette after a long drag. The taste made her want to spit.

There were three villages within a day's drive. Beyond them a town ready to give birth to a city. It had been built over a great river and for years lumber had come through it and further out into the world. Now there was the promise of a railroad. Stores lined the streets and everywhere men were at work setting foundation into the Earth.

"Bulma?" she turned from her computer screen to see Goku step into their tent. He left his shoes in the corner beside her own. "Did I- did I set everything up right? I've got the pictures you wanted." He handed her the camera. Bulma set it down in front of her screen and went back to staring off into space. Goku watched her for a moment before touching her knee. "Bulma," he repeated.

"Do you know what's west of here, Goku?" He shook his head. "Small little place called Soba- no they don't make soba there. It's got a population of only seventy thousand right now but let me tell you, it's prospects look good. In a decade's time it could be a real metropolis…The Red Ribbon camp we bugged is supposed to be here to set up communication for the real baddies who'll be here tomorrow." Goku did not know what communication had to do with fighting but he nodded again obediently. He could feel what was coming so Bulma needn't elaborate. A familiar voice whispered in his ear making it twitch. _Kakarott_. "The Red Ribbon Army has been staying away because the scouts sent this way kept disappearing… I guess that had to be your grandpa… Anyway, tomorrow an infantry battalion will be 'rolling in.'"

Silence filled the tent, the seconds marked by the cicadas. When he realized no order would come, Goku tapped her knee again. "How big is a battalion?" he asked.

"Anywhere from four to six hundred men." Goku whistled. Bulma nodded. "We're going to need to restart that rumor of this place being haunted. Goku do you think-"

"Create something from nothing," he said. Bulma turned her head to see the smile working its way across Goku's face. The corners of his lips turned back until his canines came into view. For some reason they looked too large to Bulma as if they belonged on some sort of animal and not a human child. "I just hope we get a shot at the real fighters someday. Maybe when I'm stronger…"

"Just like that, Goku?" It was Goku's turn to look quizzically at his companion. "You'd kill just like that?"

The boy let out a short sigh. "Yes. It's what my grandpa would do if he were here too. They're here for war. I'm giving it to them. Isn't that why you're out here too?"

"I know what we're doing!" Bulma had shot out of her seat. "It's just- it's- how can you be so accepting of this? I know you're strong, Goku, I saw what you did to that bear bandit _thing_ but you're about to charge into a group of _soldiers_ and- damn it, this isn't something people should just be comfortable doing. People are going to _die._ You might be one of them."

Goku shook his head. "Not against these guys. They didn't look much like fighters. And anyway that town you mentioned has no idea they're here and couldn't defend itself even if it did. So if we don't…"

"Who will…" Bulma finished for him. She went back to staring at nothing. "I was sorta hoping I'd be excited about this. Like you hear - well not _you_ hear but back in West City, _I_ hear- about how violent today's youth is and here's me getting squeamish about inadvertently getting a bunch of Red Ribbon fucks killed."

"Bulma, I don't know about you but I intend to do this very advertently."

"Is this really the time for jokes, Goku?" Giving him a dictionary had been a mistake.

The boy shrugged. The motion seemed to roll an invisible weight off his shoulders and onto Bulma who buckled so much under the strain that she had to rest against the table her monitor sat on. She lay there for a moment. It wouldn't be long before the heat from her machines pushed her back into the chair but at least for now she could do this. "I'll see about jamming up their radios from here. It shouldn't take long."

"Nah, don't. Otherwise they won't be able to fight back." Bulma turned a half closed eye on Goku. Slowly she lifted her head up and sat back in her chair.

"What?" she said.

"If you do that they won't be able to fight back," Goku repeated. He'd crossed his arms over his chest and withdrawn his canines but the finality with which he spoke bothered Bulma more than overly large teeth. "You said these guys weren't real warriors. It wouldn't be right to take away their one chance of beating me. It'd be like killing them in their sleep."

Bulma blinked. "Isn't that what we were going to do…" Goku shook his head. "Why the hell not?"

"Because they're people and even if it's the moment before death I'm going to remind them of that." Bulma's mouth opened and then closed before anything could come out. With another shrug Goku turned away from her, retrieved his shoes from the corner of the tent, and walked out into the night. Alone, Bulma turned his words over in her mind. Even speaking them aloud for the empty tent to hear left her with only one conclusion. Throughout the many books she'd read, stories of fantasy and real world heroes alike, the phrase 'like steel' had come up so often she'd designated it a tired cliché. After all, what could such a thing mean? That a voice was firm? Well why not say that. It wasn't until now, as she watched that empty space Goku had filled moments before and the almost month she'd spent with the care-free boy, that she understood. To be like steel was to be unnatural, to have had doubt and fear stripped from you through fire and heat until only certainty was left. Certainty that lead to a singularity of focus that would not be perturbed no matter how much another may _need_ it to be. It meant-

"He's fucking nuts."

* * *

When the call came in that a small boy was standing outside the camp demanding they leave and never return, Corporal Smith had frowned. He wasn't angry or annoyed, just confused. No one was supposed to know they were here. His unit may have been nothing more than radiomen with little combat experience but they'd carried out orders like this before and with remarkable success. It was why they'd been chosen for this operation. Their CO had bragged about it during his long-winded pep talks enough for the whole platoon to know. Whatever else they were they were professional and quick, not a single failure in twelve consecutive missions. And now that streak was about to be ruined not by an espionage team or some rival power but by some child whose parents were probably out camping. It was such an anticlimactic turn of events, Smith couldn't do anything but frown. As corporal of the guard and a corporal in the Red Ribbon Army he would do his duty without question but this wasn't how things were meant to happen.

Shaking his head, Smith followed Gouza (Ivy League as the rest of the platoon called him), out towards the edge of the camp. Hall was to his right, perched behind his machine gun likely hoping the order would come down to kill the boy and be done with it. He'd get it, eventually, but there were things to be worked out first. Like where were the boy's parents and how many others were nearby. A fire they would have seen so the family was probably inside an RV or some such vehicle.

"Hey there, sonny," Smith said in what he hoped was a friendly tone. He could see the boy now. He was small. Very small. Couldn't be more than ten or eleven years old. A shame. But the mission had to come first. "What're you doing so far from your folks, eh? You know it's dangerous wondering the woods at night. All sorts of dangers out here." Hall laughed. Smith sighed. Of course, Hall would laugh at that. "Why don't you put that stick down and come over here. We've got sweets." Hall laughed again.

"Can we skip to the fighting. I get bored with talking." Smith stared. This was… new.

"Ok, kid, if that's how you want it. Gouza, Hitch, grab him. We need him breathing so don't rough him up too bad." That was to be the last order Corporal Smith would give and the last words he would ever speak. Goku had lunged forward, bringing his staff directly against Smith's temple. The impact had broken the man's skull open, sending red hot blood onto the face of Ivy League. No one saw Smith's body collapse in on itself or the dull grey liquid that oozed out onto the blood-stained ground. Ivy League had stepped back, his face oscillating between revulsion and fear. Hitch had made to bring his rifle to the ready position but wasn't even given the chance to regret having his weapon at sling arms before Goku's next strike. It was like a cement beam crashing into him. He looked down to see the meat and bone his skin was meant to hold in place jutting out from the side his forearm. Hitch managed one single scream before his mind began working again. He had to flee, run find some way to get away from whatever this boy monster was. But then he realized there were short thick legs around his neck and knew there was no running. This thing that had crept out of the forest and thrown on the skin of a child would kill him.

He was wrong.

What killed him were the half dozen rounds Hall fired through his head.

Cruel as he was, Hall meant no malice by it. He'd seen the boy straddling Hitch's shoulders and reasoned the man was a goner anyway. At least with the beast boy where he was he could drop him before the body count rose. But he'd overestimated his ability to predict a target's movements and underestimated the boy's speed. In the time it took the first round to splatter Hitch's brains across the humid night, Goku dropped off the man's shoulders and onto the soft Earth. Hall watched the boy disappear back into the darkness he'd come from, into those shadows in whose crevices forms were stretched out into alien shapes and geometries. He watched and willed every sense to attention. Deep in the recesses of his mind something he did not understand took hold and it was as if time itself had slowed. The crackle of his companion's radio came up from inside their armored vehicle. Across what seemed like miles Hall heard the rustling of tents as a lone sentinel ran across them, screaming for everyone to go condition one. Beyond that still he felt the forest… vast… a million tiny eyes staring back at him from every tree and rock. Prey and predator alike staring at this one spot.

It was then that he realized where the boy had gone.

Behind him.

Knowing he had no time to turn around Hall reached for the safety release on his harness. Without that crucial piece to the rigging, he fell back into the vehicle. There was no light except that which leaked in from the sky. He'd fallen something round and hard and his hip now ached, a dull throb to go with the dull thud he'd made on impact. Through the gunner's pit he saw the stars, the not quite filled moon, and the sky. He readied his weapon. At this distance, there was no need for sight picture or alignment or any other true bit of marksmanship. The boy would have to show himself and his silhouette would be all the target Hall needed. Hall's thumb slid over the safety. Two clicks and the weapon was set to full auto. Voices screamed over the radio, demanding this little joke end. That whatever fun they were having would see them lashed to tree trunks if they tried it again and that they should put Smith on immediately. Hall smiled grateful for at least one final bit of humor in his life. He wished he'd gone infantry. The life was harder but there was less stupidity too. Death was too frequent for it to last long. Or so he liked to think at any rate. Dreams were important to Hall whatever else may be said of him.

"Hall!" the radioman in the driver's seat shouted. "You ok? What the fuck is this, man?"

"Kinsey, your guess is as good as-"

Goku had thrust his Nyoi-bō down through the opening. Its end came to rest against Hall's nose. Hall pulled back on the trigger sending impotent bullets out into the night sky. Goku watched them fly by before giving one tremendous push. He stopped only after the initial resistance ended and Nyoi-bō felt as if it were stuck in something soft and pulpy. Satisfied, the staff shrunk back down.

"What the fuck?! Hall! Man, _fuck!_ "

Kinsey had stumbled out of the car, tripping over his own rifle sling as he tried to make his escape. Goku blinked twice. He didn't know what to do with this one. Curious, Goku jumped over the fleeing man's head and onto the ground in front of him leaving his own back exposed. The boy listened for some telltale sign of what this man would do. When he heard the same clicking sound that had come from Hall's weapon, Goku spun around striking Kinsey's navel. The radioman stood as if frozen making Goku jump back in case his attack had been too weak. But then Kinsey folded and collapsed. The man puked up what looked like blood alongside the rest of stomach.

"Sorry," Goku said. "Shoulda struck a bit higher. I won't let you suffer long at least." He walked over to the him, to Kinsey. He placed both hands on Kinsey's hands and set his foot on the man's shoulder. Away in the camp men were screaming, stomping their boots against the ground in some great show lost on the boy. Across from them Ivy League stood still paralyzed by fear or indecision or both. "I'm sorry. Maybe you'll come back into a better life," Goku whispered before twisting Kinsey's head all the way around. Somehow Ivy League heard it all over the chaos. Still he stood there, his rifle hanging limp against his trousers. He met Goku's eyes for one infinite moment where he truly believed he might fall into them before the boy turned away from him and walked slowly, _purposely_ , towards the sound of feet and men.

Ivy League heard it all. The bullets, the screams, the sound of crunching bone, and the disbelief coming from his platoon. He heard it all and stood there as Goku walked back to where Smith and Hall and the rest had died. Their eyes met again. "You're not cut out for this." It was Goku who had spoken but it may as well have been Smith or any of the others. The words were a slap across the face strong enough to bring Ivy League out of his nightmarish reverie. Through the tears now forming, he managed to look down at Goku who shook his head. "You know it's true. You should leave. All these guys are dead. They'll figure you died too." Ivy League's face twisted as the floodgates opened. Still the monster spoke. "I know they probably meant a lot to you but this can't be how your life ends. Just go build something new somewhere. Forget all this. Start a family. Be a dad. Don't be a bad guy for the rest of your life."

The words were all Goku left him with.

* * *

 _Thanks again for reading._

 _My own bit of Saiyan headcanon is that being close to the fullmoon makes Saiyans who've done it regularly begin to get terse. Not because the Saiyan themselves is violent but for the same reason cyclical hormonal changes tend to make people testy. I know my ex would need a little extra push to get out of bed the day before her period started because her body already knew what was on its way. And that's just menstruation. Can't imagine how much worse it is if your monthly issue is turning into a kaiju._

 _Anyway, let me know if shifting the perspective to the Red Ribbon Army works for anyone else. I went with it because it paints Goku in a cruel light. He's as close to a paladin as DB has (or had. I dunno if his characterization in Super is all that consistent to who he's been) so he has a very strict moral code but its not really anything conventional. Yes he'll spare lives but he'll also take them pretty damn brutally. Especially in Dragon Ball where he didn't even think twice at chucking a grenade right back at Tao Paipai despite knowing it'd likely rip the man to shreds. Also it's surprisingly fun to write soldiers. I dunno if I got the tone right with it but hopefully it'll improve as time goes on. Haven't written fanfiction in years so I'm still trying to find a groove._

 _Awareness Bringer: Thank you for the kind words. Web-Shadow looks like a hate account targetting Naruto fanfiction which has me a bit confused as to why they're commenting on a DBZ story and not one of those._


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I have like 30 dollars in my checking account._

 _Like the last chapter this chapter was going to run up the word count but my sister convinced me shorter chapters and more frequent updates will keep me from dropping this story. Just the one scene this time._

* * *

"So that's what happened," Bulma said into her camera. She sat on a log some meters from her tent, the afternoon sun sending long shadows everywhere except where she sat. "Goku- he took out the whole camp. In less than thirty minutes. It was- oh boy, I am the wrong person for this line of work." The blue haired girl flicked the camera off. She turned her head to see Goku swallowing a small lizard he'd found scurrying across their log. For not the first time that day, Bulma's stomach turned. She looked away from her companion and focused instead on a single bead of sweat hanging off the tip of her nose. So late into the day, the air was supposed to have rejuvenated her. Instead the heat forced more and more sweat out of her body. "Hey, Goku, I'm gonna head back into the tent."

The young boy gulped down his snack. "Ok. Cold air will probably do your head some good. Want me to catch something for us?"

"My stomach just gave a resounding no but my head's reminding me I haven't eaten all day." She gave the young boy a weak smile. Unhappy with such half measures, Goku gave her a full toothed grin that stretched across his whole face. Then he quickly pursed his lips, widened his eyes, and pushed the lizard's tail out of his mouth. Bulma turned away from him and the young boy was afraid he'd taken his small gag too far. But then Goku heard her laugh and he swallowed the tail with a loud _slurp_. "You are so gross, Goku!"

"Bye, Bulma!" Goku yelled after her. He waited until the tent flaps had closed before dropping his smile. That had been the third time since he'd returned to their camp that he'd had to make his companion smile. Goku thought back to the books beside his bedspread, hoping to find some trick to dealing with this situation. Somewhere in the strategies of ancient generals Goku hoped to find a solution for Bulma. There was none, of course. As helpful a rule as 'adapt and overcome' was, there were only so many ways the crossing of a river could be reinterpreted by the same mind. The loyalty of soldiers was a given in the old stories. Unless some clever scheme had sent terror into them they were interchangeable. It was a fundamental rule to epics, Goku realized. An epic scale did not allow for the distraction of minutiae. He sighed and hopped down onto the ground.

Dinner still needed to be captured, skinned, and cooked. Bulma had packed enough food to comfortably feed several people but several people ate significantly less than one Goku and her stores promised to run low. So, it was that Goku chose to feed himself and loving boy that he was he never turned Bulma away. She liked his meals, he noted. Frowning he thought back to what she had said of the meat in West City. That it came from industrial farms and lacked the full flavor of wild game. Loathsome as the practice was it had quickly become the only reasonable way to feed the region's ballooning population, she had explained. Because of border disputes and the Red Ribbon Army there simply wasn't enough safe land in which to raise livestock. When Goku asked what an industrial farm was Bulma hadn't been sure how to answer. They'd sat together for several long minutes before she went into detail, describing these strange chemicals used to rapidly mature the animals and the cages they were left in. It'd made Goku very angry prompting Bulma to apologize for not realizing he'd obviously be a 'tree hugger' on this subject. After she'd explained what _that_ was the boy had shaken his head, himself not sure how to explain his issue and choosing to abandon it.

Speaking of which, he had to remind himself it was only another day until the full moon. Tonight's would be the last safe night for him. He'd already decided against telling Bulma so soon. He would stay indoors and wait it out. His… condition could wait until Bulma was less strained.

Goku's stomach rumbled. "Guess I better take care of that," the boy said with a small laugh. It was then that he felt eyes on him. Five pairs, all around, holding their position and none directly opposite each other _._ His eyes narrowed and the hairs on his neck became stiff. This was the first time since the old man's passing Goku had to call upon his ki so quickly but he knew he could. Ki manipulation came naturally to him. And sure enough, once he reached for it the familiar coldness crept across his skin, like mist on an icy road. Goku's ki manifested itself as an almost totally translucent white film that clung to his skin. He exhaled as he dropped into a wide legged stance. He would give them the first move.

And they would happily take it.

A shot rang out from inside the thick woods and Goku felt something very small but hard strike his temple. The attack drew no blood and left only a sharp pain but it brought the boy's senses to full attention. Goku's nostril's flared. "First one's free!" the boy shouted as more bullets came after him. Quick though they were none found their mark. Goku had once again drawn Nyoi-bō and the spinning staff knocked away all the small arms fire that came at him. He rushed towards his attackers but a sudden explosion a scarce half meter from him forced him to stop. Metal shrapnel dug into his skin and succeeded where bullets had failed. Blood oozed out from small cuts across his face. None were deep enough to call a gash but each stood as proof that he was, indeed, meat and sinew. "Bulma! Get down and don't leave the tent!" Goku called out. For a moment he considered turning his head to check on her but then a trickle of blood fell into his eye warning him not to. The boy braced himself as the barrage continued.

"Cease fire!" The order carried over the sound of rifles and bullet casings smacking up against stone. Immediately it all stopped but Goku kept Nyoi-bō at the ready. He watched as a tall man with blond hair and self-important smirk walked out of the tree line towards him. The man carried no rifle and he passed off all his gear to a blond woman almost as tall as he. She had a hard face, the kind Goku had always imagined soldiers wore. "Sergeant," said the tall man to the woman. "Be a dear and look after all that, will you?"

"Yessir," she answered in a thick drawl. Her voice was dry and formal but not unfamiliar. With practiced ease, she slung the second rifle across her back, its muzzle pointing harmlessly to the ground. His flak jacket, she laid out beside her feet. She then raised her rifle into the ready position and trained her green eyes on the small boy. Goku smirked at her. He liked the look in those twin harlequin green irises. They were like granite in all but color. Whatever order she received she would carry out. She bared her teeth and Goku's smirk grew into a smile.

"Not so threatening, sergeant," the tall man said. Without his flak jacket Goku could see the outline of the man's muscular physique. "Call it vanity, but I want this young man's attention to myself." He took two steps forward extending a hand as he did so. Goku didn't take it. "Hello! I am Captain Blue of the Red Ribbon Army. A soldier by the name of Gouza told me something very interesting about the 'monster' that wiped out his com platoon. He said the monster carried a magic staff that grew and shrunk at command. Would you happen to know something about that?"

Nyoi-bō extended until it was centimeters from Blue's face. The man's head jerked back slightly in surprise. "Now that is something!" he said excitedly. Blue lifted his hand and tried to place it over the tip of Goku's staff. Instead the weapon retreated back to its previous size. Blue looked somewhat disappointed by this. "Not the first time that's happened sadly…" Goku didn't catch the meaning. "But that is the Nyoi-bō, correct? The Ruyi Jingu Bang? The golden hooped as you will cudgel? Ah but I don't see any gold trimmings."

"Are we gonna fight?!"

Blue frowned. "Of course, but it's not every day you meet the pupil of _the_ Son Gohan."

Goku's eyes widened. "How do you know my grandpa!"

" _Everyone_ _knows him_." Blue considered the boy in front of him. "He's a legend. The only man to escape assassination by Tao Pei Pei. The favorite student of the Invincible Old Master. He-he was declared the Strongest Under the Heavens! Do you really not know how famous he is?" There was a genuine look of shock on Blue's face.

"Grandpa never bragged. He said it was beneath those who study the martial arts. Act, don't speak."

"Wise," Blue said with a small nod of his head. "Or vacuous. I never know the difference when it comes to this sort of thing. How is the old man, by the way?"

"Dead."

Blue frowned again. "Ah well, 'time ends all things' I suppose. Pity. I would have liked to meet him." Goku let out a very audible growl. "Patience isn't your strong suit, I take. Well let's get on with it. Sergeant," the woman looked to her commanding officer. "Be sure not to interrupt." When he spoke, it was almost as if he were singing. His voice carried each syllable like a note before dropping them in some joke Goku didn't understand. She nodded, scowl still firmly in place. "To the death, then?" Goku continued to glare at him. "I suppose that's a yes…"

There was a rustling inside the tent followed by a low whirring sound. Goku didn't know what Bulma was doing but so long as she didn't stick her head out during the fight he reasoned she could do whatever. He looked up at Blue who was casually removing his boots. Goku raised an eyebrow but Blue only shrugged and adopted a medium fighting stance. One leg was far behind the other and only the tip of its foot's toes touched the ground. For his part, Goku put away Nyoi-bō and raised both heads until they were just above his face. His palms were exposed and face outwards towards Blue.

"Have you some scheme planned, boy?" Blue asked. He was smiling. "Far be it for me to question Son Gohan's disciple but I don't believe that's quite right." When no one response came from Goku, Blue attacked. Two exploratory jabs struck out at the young boy, gauging the distance between the two. The first jab missed as Goku's head weaved right and the second was parried away. Next Blue tried his luck with a fast moving straight but that too was parried away. The attack was almost effortlessly brushed aside as Goku's body moved slightly to its left and his left hand hit the underside of Blue's first. Blue retreated his hand instantly fearing a counteract but instead Goku snarled.

The boy lashed out with a push kick to Blue's abdomen so sudden the older man couldn't react. Goku's heel connected with Blue's tightened core, pushing him back and almost knocking him over. For one panicked moment Captain Blue felt shock and humiliation flush through his cheeks. But then he righted himself, his smug smirk replaced by a grimace, and glared down at Goku. "Give me your all," the boy demanded. "or I'll bite through your femoral next time." Blue nodded.

And so he came at Goku, his attacks faster now and chained together seamlessly. A jab led into a hook which itself became a rear elbow when Goku dodged it. Then came a low kick to Goku's forward leg that came up short and Blue converted into a side kick. Again he missed.

There was another exchange. No higher than Blue's middrift, Goku found it easy to slip the taller man's punches and after one careless jab, he came up with an overhand punch. It landed square on his chin and Blue felt his teeth rattle, each pearly white crashing into its mirror. Try as he might, all the captain could do was control the location of the fight. And even that he suspected he could lose if the boy landed an especially nasty blow. But doubt is the enemy of a fighter, he reminded himself. Experience was his greatest advantage. Whatever the boy did it would not be new to him.

He went at Goku with renewed zeal. Blue threw one ferocious knee, the same that'd broken half his sparring partners, a dozen of whom never made it out of the ring. But Goku's elbow came down to greet the meaty portion of his leg and Blue recoiled in pain, forgetting his attack. He had only a moment to consider the pain before Goku closed the distance between the two of them.

Blue was thrown on his back. The world had spun around him and he could feel Goku's wild hair against him. Without prompting or command Blue's hand reached out for it while the other arm swung around Goku trapping the boy's body against him. He felt a leg try to climb over him and he threw his own leg over it to keep it in place.

"Son Gohan certainly taught you well," Blue admitted. The two struggled against each other, Goku hoping to free his leg and Blue determined to prevent that from happening. The heat from their bodies burned.

"Let go of my hair." The snarl was back in Goku's voice. That knowledge pleased Blue. A frustrated enemy was half beaten.

"Why don't you make me?"

It's difficult to say what happened next. Captain Blue's sergeant could not see the whole fight. From her perspective, the captain had managed to hold the boy in a half guard easily countering his attempts to transition into a full mount. But then she heard Blue scream. The captain _never_ screamed. Ever faithful, she readied her weapon. Into a nook above her rifle's trigger she placed a 40mm grenade. "Off the captain!" she warned but the boy either could not or would not and so she closed the 203 barrel around the explosive. "Comin' on yer left, sir!"

With the type of strength that only comes to you in the moment before death, Blue managed to force himself onto his left side. Goku was now between him and the explosive so when it went off he took the full blast.

"Y'alright, sir?"

Blue stood. He held onto Goku's left arm bringing the boy up with him and displaying him to his subordinates like a dead goose. "A little close there, sergeant. And all this time I thought you liked having me as a CO." They shared a smile although she hogged most of it. There was still a bit of a scowl on Blue's features. "A hundred other ways you could have handled that."

"Sorry, sir." She turned to a tri of figures walking up to them. Two tall lanky men, one with pockmarked skin and the other with an audacious mustache that bordered on cartoonish. The third with fat cheeks was Gouza and his eyes could have held venom. "McDonald, deal with whoever's in that tent but no shooting. You ain't John Rambo and I'll be damned if whatever intel's there gets ruined because you've got shit trigger discipline." McDonald nodded, mumbling something about 'hoss.'

"Excuse me, Ng was it?" The mustachioed soldier looked to his commander. "See what you can do for the boy. I can feel his pulse and hear his breathing. Good signs, yes?"

Ng blinked. "No disrespect, sir, but even if I were a real surgeon with a full team I don't think I could save someone who ate a grenade."

Blue laughed, his mouth falling back into his confident smirk. "Oh you'll find this boy very likely to live. In fact, I'd wager if we left him here he'd be back up within the day. There are so many stories around what Son Gohan could do… And look at him!" Blue shook the body flicking the boy's blood out into the humid afternoon. Today was absurd and he had to bite down a second laugh. His men might start thinking him mad. "Whole! Completely in one piece! And these rivulets of blood running down his body? I'd wager he hasn't lost nearly enough. The boy's got hero written all over him!"

"I'll see what I can do, sir." Ng took the boy and laid him on his stomach. From a pouch on his side he withdrew some bandages and a single needle. "This here's for the pain. Doubles as a safety measure in case you decide to cause trouble." Piercing Goku's skin was surprisingly difficult but Ng managed it. "Tough little fuck, aren't you?"

As Ng worked, Blue turned the lone woman of this small team. "I don't quite know how to say this but… the young boy here bit into me and well-" Blue moved his hand away from his torso exposing a growing bloodstain on his undershirt. "He took a lot out of me, so to speak."

"Shit," the sergeant swore.

"Oh, yes. If I'm not mistaken he managed to break a rib. Damn good thing I was holding his head in place!" A crazed look came over Blue as he spoke. His hand was over his wound again. "Remarkable, isn't it?" To the sergeant's horror, her captain forced two fingers into the hole in his side. Blue's body shook but still he laughed. "And here was me thinking this mission would be boring! Let's hope the little tyke pulls through. I'd love a second round."

"Sir," the sergeant said evenly. "You oughtta leave that alone."

"Oh!" Blue looked down at his hand. "Sorry. You know how a good fight gets to me, Launch."

"Yessir, I do. Let me see about patching you up." There was silence as she worked. Blue looked beyond her to Gouza who stood awkwardly in all his equipment. The venom had left his eyes and now he just seemed lost. It was only when he glanced at Goku's motionless form that a few drops of it would return. Blue whistled and Gouza turned to look at his new commander. The blond man winked. Confusion lead to apprehension which lead to Gouza gulping and then Blue smiling. The smell of gunpowder lingered in the air, mixing with the faint odor of Goku's burnt flesh and the day's heat. Blue inhaled it all in.

"It's a lovely afternoon, sergeant," he said an honest grin on his face. She agreed. Then she smacked his bandaged side. "Ow!" Launch laughed. Blue scowled at her but it wasn't long before he joined her too. Gauza smiled unsure what was so funny or even if he should join in the laughter. Ng kept up at his work, wiping away sweat and every so often marveling at whatever the hell this boy was. It certainly wasn't human, he knew that much. Minutes passed before McDonald came out of the tent. Blue looked at him expectantly.

"Just a little longer, sir," he said. "New guy, c'mere. Congratulations, ya get to be useful." Gouza nodded and made his way towards the tent. As he passed Blue he mumbled 'sir' but didn't stop walking.

"Imma give Lieutenant Reed a call."

"A 'call,' sergeant?" Blue smirked down at his subordinate. "Losing a lot of your dyke credibility there. I didn't even know you could make a call on a radio. Can you check dm's on one too?" Launch rolled her eyes and walked over to Ng. From the large pack on his back she withdrew a receiver. Blue watched her exchange formalities with whoever was on the other side of the line. It was likely Wonton he surmised. The boy was always volunteering for work that put him closer to officers and ncos. Blue hummed to himself letting Launch handle reporting the fight. He was still tingling.

"Say again your last. Over," came a voice over the radio.

"I say again, he's a child and I had to hit him square in the back with a grenade and he's still fucking breathing." Launch paused. After a deep breath she forced out "Over."

"…Roger. Be advised, the L.T. is present. Over."

"Roger. Out." Launch returned the receiver to its hook. "Like I give a fuck if you're with the lieutenant. I'm with the captain and last I checked captain is higher up the chain than fucking lieutenant."

"You tell 'im, sergeant." Ng's voice was so dry it'd have gone well with a martini.

"Fuck off, Ng. The fuck kinda name doesn't have vowels anyway?"

"Can't say I know. But we don't pick our names, Sergeant Launch Bento." She boxed his ear. Ng turned to face her grinning despite the pain.

"Only thing you need to know me by is 'sergeant.' Got it, smartass?" It took some effort but she kept up her scowl. "How's the kid doing?"

"Considering he should be in a million pieces; fantastic. To tell you the truth, I wouldn't be surprised if he were walking in a week."

"You being smart again, Ng?"

"No, sergeant. I mean exactly what I said."

Launch whistled. "Well no shit." Just like Blue had predicted. "Good job, Ng. I'll let the captain know. Sir!" she called out but her voice was drowned out by a high-pitched scream. "Oh boy, what the fuck are those idiots doing." In the same way it was her duty to look out for the welfare of her men so too was it her duty corral them into compliance. So Launch walked briskly towards the tent fully prepared to shout her head off. It was, after all, her job. And when a young teenage girl with blue hair ran out of the tent, Launch didn't hesitate to grab her and shove her back towards the place she'd fled from. This was, again, her job. It was as the girl fell back into Gouza's chest and his arms wrapped around her that the situation became _off._

McDonald had poked his face out. He looked at his sergeant and shook his head. The girl's eyes had widened into the sort of pleading look that should stay alien to the face of a haughty young girl. And worse of all the normally demure Gouza had an angry and vulgar expression across his overly fat face. Each of his cheeks were a deep red and his mouth was contorted as if it couldn't decide whether he wanted to cry or snarl. There was no such confusion for Launch. She growled, "Hey, Gouza, you find anything salvageable in there or not?" The fat cheeked soldier looked at her with the same stupid expression you'd see on a boar or pig. Launch's cheeks burned. "When an nco asks you question, you give them an answer, _private_."

"Sergeant," came a disgustingly sweet voice. It was Blue's. "Take McDonald there and do a quick once over of the perimeter." There was a painfully short moment where no one spoke. Launch's mouth opened and closed. Ng purposely busied himself with examining Goku's bandages. McDonald's eyes glazed over and Bulma's jaw clenched, some great fury in her without a means to express itself. Gouza's fingers dug further into her skin.

"Yes, sir…" Launch's face had hardened. She turned her back to Bulma and walked off with McDonald eagerly jogging after her.

Both Gouza and Bulma looked to Blue. He smiled. And just like the syrup that sinks to the bottom of your cup and turns into a flaky layer of crust, it turned her stomach. "By all means, as you were, private. Don't let me keep you. But why not show me what you and McDonald discovered?" It's a pity Bulma was only human. A normal girl born to normal loving parents who despite their other eccentricities had raised as most parents look to raise their children. There was no secret ancient power she could all or dangerous forbidden technique to spit into the faces of these two All Bulma could do when Blue met her eyes was feel. Hate, humiliation, anger… But there was no breaking Gouza's grip. "Bring the girl… I'm sure there's something she's not telling us."

"Y-yes, sir!" Gouza's voice cracked. His excitement was getting to be too much for him.

Bulma screamed. Her voice carried out through the night stabbing into everyone determined to ignore her. There were no tears or signs of fear. Anger wouldn't allow her any. "Fuck you, you fat fucking pig!"

"Well now there's a mouth that would do even the sergeant proud." Blue's smile had become a permanent fixture of the afternoon. His white teeth stained red by the sun and his fight with Goku. "I never would have believed the daughter of the world-famous Doctor Briefs would be so uncouth. And don't worry, girl, you're more the sergeant's type than mine. Besides, you're too valuable to rough up." He cupped Bulma's face.

"Excuse me, sir," Everyone turned to Ng who was still focused on Goku's unconscious form. "You want me to let the L.T. know?"

"Of course! We have a VIP coming back to the camp with us. We'll need to get out that red carpet." Ng nodded removing his pack and muttering to himself darkly. Blue watched him before cocking his head to the side. "You'll have to speak up, Ng. You forget a grenade went off next to me."

Ng pursed his lips. "I said," he began. "I said- what's a Brief doing way out here, anyway?" Blue's head righted itself. "Sir," Ng finally forced out.

"A good question." Bulma's face was inscrutable. Talented though he was all Blue could see was the hate in her eyes. He'd hoped that at the mention of her father the girl would look shocked or worried. That she felt hate implied she was looking to fight back and hostages who fought back were the sort of headache that took all the fun out of the job. "Gouza, you'll have to forgive me but I'll be needing to speak with Miss Brief's in private. Be a dear and wait outside the tent."

"Dad won't bargain for me," she spoke in a whisper. "When my sister got grabbed a couple years ago, he didn't budge an inch. And he loves her a lot more than he does me. So rape me, put two in my head, and leave me naked in a ditch somewhere because that's all you're getting out of me."

"We'll cross those bridges when we get to them, Miss Briefs." Blue pulled back the tent flap opening. "After you of course." Bulma shrugged off Gouza's meaty hands and walked into what this morning she had considered her own private space.

* * *

Thanks for reading. Really hoping I handled everything ok. In general I'm against using the threat of rape and assault as drama but there's been a scene between Gouza and Bulma in my head since I came up with the guy. That scene will be in the next chapter and I don't think it'll go away until I have it written out in front of me. Sorry.

captain carrot 44: thank you for the review. I'm happy that at least one person liked what I did.

Ultor: hopefully I can get the next chapter done in a couple weeks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello! Got bit by the fanfiction bug and decided I might as well update a few stories. Better late than never I guess.**

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Gouza took a sip from his canteen. Even with the sun down the heat was boring into him. Or maybe that was just Launch. Every so often he'd catch her glaring at him from across the camp. Gouza allowed himself a moment to wonder what she had planned for him and then immediately regretted it. Putting away his canteen, the young soldier returned his hand to his rifle and assumed what he hoped was a more imposing posture. He was, after all, still on duty. Blue had ordered him to stand guard while the girl was questioned.

A score of men had arrived at Bulma's camp, three of whom forced their muddy boots and scowling faces into what had been her tent. These men stood around her asking questions and making vague threats everyone knew they couldn't make good on. Blue had retreated into a corner. He'd looked bored with the men's puffed out chests before they'd even been inflated. Their impotence was just too plain. Besides, they filled the small tent with the smell of chewing tobacco and cigarette butts which was torture on a man trying to quit. But like the models you see in magazines Blue stared straight ahead and tried to perform for the camera whenever someone looked to him or said his name.

If he were honest with himself, Blue would admit they were not doing a totally lousy job. The dynamic the three men established was standard practice with a proven track record. He had himself tried something very similar hours before. No, if he were honest, Blue would realize the issue was Bulma. The woman had stamina like a marathon runner. Anyone could scream while there was adrenaline in them and anyone could get a saucy look to spit insolence with when the insult was fresh on their face. But who could keep that up for six hours entirely uninterrupted while sitting in a hotbox? Bulma could. Being the proud sort, Blue blamed the parting gift Goku had left him (the migraine to end all migraines) but the truth was Bulma was simply outlasting him.

Even now with the advantage of three fresh bodies and years of experience, all that these interrogators could get her say is "My name is Bulma Briefs. I'm a leo with O-positive blood. I like long walks on the beach and getting caught in the rain. But you can hold the pina coladas. I don't drink on the first date." One of the men struck her across the face with his open palm. He brought his long-scared nose up against her own short one. No doubt he thought he was threatening. But, Bulma was not to be cowed it seemed. She kissed the tip of her interrogator's nose.

Blue let out one long exasperated breath. Why bother hiding it anymore, he figured. "I suppose you think you're cute," he said. "Step away from her, Lieutenant. Why don't you all take a breather." The three men left, their chests deflated. Unfortunately, the smell of tobacco stayed behind. "It took a moment to realize what was happening but I see your game now. You had me going for a minute with that story of your older sister. Your old man left her to die and some miracle spared her? Then why are you so eager for us to kill you hm? Taunting my men, declaring some to be your lovers… It's all a bit much. Do they not teach subtly in West City?"

A single bead of sweat was knocked out of place as Bulma lifted her eyebrows. "It's the truth. If I were lying I'd have made up a cousin." She smiled her sweetest smile, the swelling of her cheek doing nothing to ruin her features. "I'm just trying to save us both some time."

"I'll take my chances." Bulma heard him and pursed her lips in a pout. His playfulness long gone, Blue only stared at her. "We'll be leaving shortly."

"I have to use the restroom."

"There's no restroom and no, we're not waiting."

"You're mean," Bulma observed.

"Oh you've no idea!" He turned away from her and walked out of the tent without another word. McDonald stumbled in looking awkward. The way he bit his lower lip reminded Bulma of the stray dogs the called the docks home.

"I have to use the restroom," she said to him. The left side of his lip still in-between his teeth, McDonald shook his head. "Fiiiiiine!" Crossing her legs and closing her eyes Bulma tried to ignore the stinging on her cheek. The young would-be scientist silently counted every stroke of fortune in her favor.

Goku was alive and it had taken a fucking grenade to drop him and from the dandy's ranting earlier she knew Goku would be healthy enough to free her soon. Her task now was to stall until Goku could make his daring escape followed by her rescue. Blue was ambitious and needed her cooperation to realize those ambitions. Blue thought she was trying to goad them into killing her so there was a non-zero chance he'd see to it his men left her alone. The mysterious Colonel Blackman wouldn't be able to arrive for another four days and Blue's battalion had to hold. Blue was only a captain commanding a whole battalion and so his authority came from his position and not his rank. That fat disgusting pig was on the other side of the tent. And, of course, no one except her knew where the dragon balls were or, she suspected, even knew what they were.

All in all, her hand was deceptively strong. This made her smile.

"Mind sharing the joke, miss?"

Bulma looked at McDonald and in her sweetest voice said, "You'll all be dead by morning." To her surprise McDonald laughed.

"Not a bad joke," said McDonald in a low voice. "Same thing a fortune teller told me last time I was on leave. Some bull about a great doom coming towards me and the whole Red Ribbon Army."

"Feeling confident?" asked Bulma.

"Why not?" McDonald stopped smiling and looked at the girl with all the cruelty he could muster. A stray's barred teeth were never a pretty sight. "See, I hear that kinda shit all the time. So does the captain and the sergeant. That we're not gonna get away with it, that everything we're doing here is just one long chain we're adding links to and wrapping around our necks. S'all bull. Ain't no one coming for you. Don't any kinda god care. The colonel will be here in a few days and a whole buncha guys in lab coats will be here even quicker. You'll go straight to the General while that boy gets thrown into the kinda place they write horror movies about. So go ahead. Give me whatever line you got. It'll do you as much good as it did that gypsy before I torched her village."

Bulma stared at McDonald long and hard. "We'll see."

"Yeah."

"Corporal," came Blue's voice from outside the tent. A moment later the man himself half entered. "You've always been good at forcing compliance. Prepare our guest. We're moving her back to the camp. The sergeant won't be joining you as I have a special job for her but feel free to grab Ng. Two capable men such as yourselves should suffice."

"Yes, sir!"

* * *

"Very interesting, isn't he?" said one man in a hazmat suit to another. There were five in total, all spread out, and each analyzing a different piece of equipment hooked up to an unconscious Goku. "His muscle mass is on pair with elite level athletes and yet there's no indication he's so much as finished puberty. We won't know until we check his hormone levels but chemically he should still be pre-adolescence. And yet he has pubic hair. As much as an adult."

"I'm still stuck on this tail," said another. "It's effectively prehensile and if I'm reading these imaging scans right, there's one long gland that runs from the very tip back into his coccyx. The great apes lost their tails millions of years ago and they were never prehensile to begin with. And what the hell would this gland even be for? Marking territory? There aren't any pores for those sorts of secretions." The doctor shook his head. "Do you think he's… all natural?" he asked.

A man with a clipboard and "RR" emblazoned over the word 'LEAD' on his hazmat suit walked up to a recording device in the corner of the room. "Check," he said while looking into the device. He repeated this process twice more with a different recording device each time before clearing his throat and saying in a loud clear voice, "This is Doctor Adrian Tsoi, Red Ribbon Army Biological Research Lead for Support Company Bravo. In five minutes we will begin live dissection of sample 958, also known as 'Son Goku.' To better understand the subject's responses to extreme stress, no sedative will be administered. Does Research Command copy?"

"This is Doctor Gero of Red Ribbon Research Command," answered a voice emanating from the recording equipment. "You may commence when-"

"Does it really need to be like this?" an apprehensive, almost pleading voice could be heard saying to Dr Gero. "What if- I mean- what if there's only one of him? We can't really risk killing our only specimen, dad. Especially-"

"Immaterial," Gero could be heard saying. "We will have his DNA and a detailed report of his anatomy and each organ's general function. If no more samples like this can be found, we will simply clone another to experiment with. And do not speak over me while we are in the middle of work!"

"Y-yes, dad. I mean, sir."

"Good. Dr Tsoi." The doctor looked up from his clipboard. "Are you ready to begin?"

"Just waiting on that green light, Dr Gero."

"You have it."

"Alright, gentleman," said Tsoi. "Let's get to it. Subject's race is indeterminate. Male. Height: 60.5 centimeters. Age is twelve or thirteen years old. Subject's resting heart rate is thirty-five beats per minute. Blood pressure one forty over ninety. Body temperature is thirty-seven degrees Celsius. Dr Kirkman, if you'd like to start us off."

One of the men nearest Goku powered up a bone saw. "We'll begin by removing the subject's right arm at the humerous."

"Excellent!" Gero could be heard saying. "Let us see how the subject's body reacts to extreme pain. Pay close attention to his hormonal response. I want to see how far the subject deviates from-"

"Hey- um- Dr Gero?" said the apprehensive voice from before. "I'm seeing some new brain activity here. Is-um- is the subject still asleep?"

No, Goku was not. His eyes had snapped open and fixed upon Dr Kirkman as the Red Ribbon scientist stood over him. Even the whir of the bone saw did nothing to mask the growl that escaped Goku's lips. "He's awake!" said Kirkman briefly backing away.

"Well, yes, Doctor Kirkman," said Gero his irritation obvious. "What did you think would happen when you started cutting him up? Continue!"

"Y-yes, Doctor!"

Suddenly the tent was filled with the sound of metal bending and breaking. Kirkman watched in horror as Goku shattered his arm restraints. If Kirkman had taken a second step back or shut off the bone saw, he might have survived. He would have been too far to grab and there would have been no weapon to immediately use on him. But by the time the doctor realized the danger it was too late. The young boy had already seized his arm with both hands. "Wha-" was all Kirkman managed before Goku drove the tool straight into his chest. Kirkman's screams became gurgles as his throat then mouth filled with blood. When the last of his life had left him, the scientist's body collapsed onto Goku.

It was a credit to the remaining doctors that they did not panic. Two lunged forward, each trying to get ahold of Goku's arms while a third doctor pulled the corpse of Kirkman back towards a corner in the tent. Dr Tsoi drew a weapon hidden among expensive looking equipment. A .45 caliber pistol and he unloaded the full clip of ten rounds into Goku. But the bullets did nothing except anger the boy further.

"Remarkable," said Dr. Gero. "Those restraints should have been more than enough to hold down any human. And he is entirely unaffected by light gunfire. The specimen's abilities far surpass what Captain Blue reported. Look! He's lifted one of the doctors with a single arm! What prodigious strength! Son! You were right. This specimen is far too valuable to kill so soon. Inform Captain Blue that the specimen is escaping. Tell him he's authorized to send whoever he deems fit to retrieve our subject."

"Why won't you die?!" shouted Dr Tsoi as he reloaded. The two doctors that had tried to restrain Goku had been hurled aside while the last doctor looked on in horror. Goku was free and before Tsoi could lift his weapon to fire again Goku was on him. Tsoi met the same fate as Kirkman although in place of a saw Goku used his bare bands to shatter the doctor's skull.

An avatar of death, Goku turned to look at the remaining three men. His black eyes bore into them worse than any drill or weapon could hope to. They cowered unable to move, held in place by Goku's glare. "Please!" one said holding his hands up as if to beg for his life. Goku turned away from him and ran out into the night.

He did not know where this new strength had come from, but he did not question it. Bulma was still in danger and strong as he was now, Goku could make short work of Blue. Especially if Blue wasn't aware of the change in Goku. _Where am I?_ wondered Goku as he took in his new surroundings. They were very familiar. _This is our camp,_ he realized. _They must have moved Bulma to a different location. What time is it?_ he asked himself. And then Goku looked up at the night sky to see a perfectly full moon looking back down at him.

* * *

Launch sat on a makeshift platform mounted onto the side of a tree. With her was a man in his mid-twenties, a box of unopened/uneaten snacks, a radio, and, of course, their weapons. Their position overlooked the path between Bulma's old camp and where the Red Ribbon Army had set up. "Mynares, you fall asleep and I'll shove that helmet of yours so far up your ass it'll be ticklin' yer tonsils," said Launch as she took a drink from her canteen and popped a pill into her mouth.

"Don't go threatening me with a good time, Sergeant Launch." Mynares turned a knob on his night vision scope. "I might take you up on it."

"Fuck's sake, this is why you're still a private, Mynares. Using that mouth to be smart instead of kissing ass like a good little soldier."

"No disrespect, sergeant," said Mynares. "But I'm getting paid to shoot people. I've met all of my life goals. I can die happy."

"Don't go saying shit like that!" snapped Launch. "You been in long enough to know it's invitin' trouble."

Mynares waved a dismissive hand. "I had a good run, sergeant."

"Hm." Launch twisted the cap back onto her canteen. As she raised her weapon she peered down the sights, checking the tree line for anything that shouldn't be there. The heat of the afternoon had long since passed and the cool night air filled Launch's nostrils with something like nostalgia. That muddy earth smell, the crying of the cicadas, the too many stars to count, even the prattling of Mynares, it all reminded her of her parents' cabin. Back in the days before the episodes began, when she was still one whole person and not whatever it was she was now. Launched forced away the memories the way she always did, by reminding herself of the job in front of her.

After the interrogation of Bulma Briefs had gone south, Blue had approached her with a special assignment. "I want you to be a look out in case anything at the dissection site goes wrong," he'd said. "Dr Gero is being his usual stubborn self and refuses to allow me to station a guard alongside his researchers, so this will have to do. Grab whoever you need and find a good vantage point. No doubt Gero will have cameras set up around the site for whatever reason it is that insane men do things, which means you'll need to place yourself in a suboptimal position. I trust you can make it work?"

"Yessir," Launch had said. "Do you really think the boy's gonna break loose?"

"Certain of it." The Captain had then looked at her with a very serious expression on his face. "Do not engage, sergeant. He was more than a match for me and- and something about all this feels wrong but I can't put my finger on just what. Observe and give the alarm. Do not draw attention to yourself, am I clear?"

"Of course, sir!"

Almost twenty-four hours had passed since she'd received her orders, the science team having arrived roughly six hours ago. "Eggheads oughtta have already started the dissection," Launch said. "If anything's gonna happen it'll be now." And for a painfully still moment nothing did. But then-

" **ROOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRRRR!"**

"What the fuck was that?!" yelled Mynares throwing all caution to the wind.

"Get eyes on it!" Launch shouted back in no calmer a voice. "Don't sound like any fuckin' dinosaur I know of."

" **ROOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRRRR!"**

This time the roar was accompanied by the stomping of massive feet as if some giant were sprinting to their location. The trees themselves were trembling. "It's coming this way!" said Launch. She loaded a grenade into her .203. "Mynares, you see anything yet?"

"Negative!"

A single massive furred hand appeared in front of the pair and then smashed into their platform. Mynares was crumpled like a piece of paper, with his own rifle and planks of splintered wood impaling his lifeless corpse. Launch was slammed against the tree behind her as the monster pinned her to it. She cried out in pain. To Launch it felt as if every bone in her body had just been shattered. Her screams could be heard throughout the forest, but the monster didn't seem to register the woman at all. His hand drew back and with a flick of his wrist, Launch was thrown to the ground. And it was now as she lay slipping into unconsciousness, unsure if there were enough doctors on Earth to fix her insides, that Launch could see the thing more clearly. A giant feral looking ape with a tail as long as its body and a long snout stood in front of her. Meter long canines gleamed in the moonlight and its eyes were focused on something far in the distance.

"The camp," Launch realized. Even through all her injuries, the young woman was able to draw the signal gun on her hip and load one flare into it. With the last of her strength she aimed it at the sky and squeezed the trigger.

* * *

"Yes, I heard you," said Blue into his radio. "And I realize this is important to Dr. Gero's experiments but what you are asking for is too reckless. I- Yes. Yes. Well then!" The soldiers around Blue fidgeted. They were unaccustomed to seeing their captain so irate. "If Dr Gero is acting under Colonel Blackman's instructions he should get the colonel on the line, so he can give me this fool order himself! Until then I am not sending my men out to get massacred. We- Did that peon hand off the radio? Hm? Ah! Gero's boy. Good. You I can talk sense into. Look, we know where Son Goku is headed. He _will_ attack the camp because this is where Ms Briefs is being held… No. There is absolutely no chance he will try to run. You learn a lot from a man after a good fight and I can say with total certainty that boy will not abandon a comrade. Rather admirable, really." Blue was quiet for a while as he listened to the other man. "Because it's simply too risky. Small arms fire does nothing and he's clearly spent his whole life in the woods. Any search party I send out after him will get picked off one by one. Let _him_ come to us. Explosives are still effective, and we'll be able to dictate the battlefield…Oh gods, _of course_ your father wants him alive now! That's exactly the sort of-"

" **ROOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRRRR!"**

Everyone in the camp turned in the direction of the roar. Instinctively they clutched their weapons bracing themselves for whatever threat was coming.

" **ROOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRRRR!"**

Blue emerged from his tent radio still in hand. A lieutenant with half a million questions on his lips was there waiting for him but Blue silenced him with one raised finger. The captain looked to the sky as if searching for a sign. When it came in the form of a bright red flare, Blue turned to the lieutenant. "Prepare for engagement. Now!" And that was all the attention Blue would pay this subordinate. With purpose, Blue made his way pass the lieutenant and towards the camp's improvised prison. McDonalds was there, standing guard like the dutiful soldier he was, waiting expectantly for instruction. "Grab Ng, a box of field rations, and the most reliable Humvee you can find," said Blue as he took a hypodermic needle from his pocket. "Meet me by the eastern camp exit. Asap!" McDonalds ran off not even bothering to ask what his captain intended to do with the needle he'd just withdrawn.

"What do you want?" snapped Bulma the moment she saw it was Blue who entered but he didn't answer her. Instead he moved to the girl's side so quickly that Bulma's eyes almost lost track of him. She let out a small yelp as a needle was jammed into her neck and then she was unconscious.

"Sorry, dear," murmured Blue as he threw her body over his shoulder. "You're much too troublesome to be kept awake for something like this." A third roar echoed through the forest, only this time it was much closer. Blue clenched his jaw, the only way he could safely discharge his pent-up aggression. "Sergeant, I don't know what it was you saw out there, but I will be very cross if you didn't survive." A fourth roar, now loud enough to shake the camp. "Have to move."

Blue made it all the way outside before the fighting started. A titanic sized ape had emerged from within the forest and no amount of gunfire would make it return. From the trenches that made up the camp's perimeter, grenades were lobbed at the monster's feet, tearing apart the ground it stood on but having no effect on the monster itself. This _thing_ defied reason. The explosions didn't so much as singe the fur of its body. It continued its advance totally unperturbed by the explosives and bullets of the Red Ribbon Army. And as the monster moved something like white light gathered in its mouth. "What in the world," wondered Blue too stunned to take his eyes off the creature. He knew his should move, he knew he was squandering the chance Launch had given him. Yet fascination overwhelmed him. "Is that… _ki_?"

A white beam of pure energy expelled itself from the beast's mouth and tore through the Red Ribbon lines. One moment men were there firing their machine guns and then the next there was nothing. Not even corpses remained. Just the faint smell of ozone and the outline of bodies where men once stood. "My god…" A mortar exploded over the monster's face drawing his attention in the same way a fly might draw the attention of a normal. It let out a low growl the reverberated throughout Blue's whole body jarring him out of his stupor. "Damnable monster!"

"Sir!" a Red Ribbon staff sergeant shouted as he ran up to Blue. There were six men with him, two armed with rocket launchers and another a heavy box of munitions.

"We have to get Ms Briefs out of here," said Blue, adjusting the teenage girl on his shoulder. "We'll be taking the third egress route towards Diablo Desert. Keep the creature occupied as best you can but don't throw your lives away. Make sure the word gets out." A loud crash rang out through the camp. The monster had taken hold of a truck and slammed it into another. "Get to it, Staff Sergeant!"

"Yes, sir!" the staff nco turned to his men. "C'mon! Y'wanna live forever?"

The captain turned away from them and resumed his own sprint towards McDonalds. As he ran his mind lingered on the 'here be monsters' scrawled across the buttstock of the staff sergeant's rifle.

"Captain Blue!" McDonalds was already mounted on the gunner's seat. He shouted for his commander, trying to make sure he could be spotted in the quickly escalating chaos that was the Red Ribbon camp. "We're right here!"

"Yes, I see you, corporal," hissed Blue through grit teeth. He pulled open the Humvee door and tossed Bulma into the back seat. "Now stay put," said Blue as if the girl could hear him or respond. Ng hit the gas the moment his commanding officer was in the vehicle. He had a frantic look on his face, the sort of thing Blue would normally reprimand a soldier for but given the circumstances… With a grimace, the captain reached for the radio between the passenger and driver seats. "This is 3rd Infantry Battalion to any Red Ribbon bombers in the region, does anyone copy? Over." No response. "This is 3rd Infantry Battalion to any bombers in the region, does anyone copy? Over." Silence from the radio. "For fu-"

Something hit the roof of the Humvee with enough force to almost send the vehicle spinning out of control. It was by centimeters that Ng managed to avoid driving them off the set trail and into one of the great trees in these woods. "Damn it!" shouted Blue. "McDonald!" The captain pulled the emergency release cord on the gunner's harness and the now headless body of McDonald fell into the Humvee beside him. Blue became eerily calm as he reached for the dogtags around the man's neck. And the way he opened the Humvee door to hurl out McDonald's corpse would have been the sort of thing to put Ng on edge if the man weren't already as tense as he could get.

"There's nothing more to be done," murmured Blue. He pulled Bulma up to him and secured the girl into a seat before he made his way to sit beside Ng. The sounds of battle were growing distant. Blue turned his head to look out into the dark woods and tried to fill his mind with the rumbling of the Humvee's engine.

* * *

Dr Gero felt giddy. He had been blessed enough to see something truly _awesome._ In fact, there was likely an argument to be made that specimen 958 qualified as fantastic. Like the wolfman out of a story book that boy had gazed upon the full moon and been transformed into a terrible inhuman beast. Fangs and fur chased away whatever remnants of civilization were on him and returned 958 to a more primordial time when brute strength was all that mattered. Gero's cameras had captured everything from the thing's first howl to it crushing the remaining members of the science team to it massacring the 3rd Infantry Battalion.

For the hundredth time that morning, the mad doctor replayed the battalion's last transmission, his mind turning with terrible ideas all the while.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading.**


	6. Chapter 6

**_CaptainCarrot44: Goku's violent but not homicidal. He'll kill if it solves the situation in front of him and he'll do it without a second thought but he won't go out of his way to kill. And Goku's still trying to live up to Son Gohan's ideals, so he won't kill just because someone wronged him. Now if they wronged someone else..._**

 _ **Anon: Yeah, sorry for the long hiatus. As a fan of HunterxHunter I know how that stings. And yes, Goku is aware of his transformation.**_

* * *

 _Kakarot._

The world came into focus. It was night and he was in a clearing in the middle of a vast forest. The moon loomed overhead, unobscured by clouds. The monster growled as he began to take stock himself. Had he eaten? No. His stomach was rumbling so much it hurt. He was hungry. The monster began to lumber towards the scent of some other large creature, one that might quiet his stomach but then The Voice spoke to him again.

 _Kakarot. Seek._

The monster growled. He did not want to seek. He was hungry. He should hunt, kill prey, and eat it.

 _Kakarot. Seek,_ The Voice repeated and Kakarot found that he could not disobey it. This angered him so much that his roar made even the distant mountains shake. The monster turned to see a small thing standing in front of some soft structure, likely its home. He could hear the whimper of other small things from inside.

 _Kakarot. Kill._

With his giant furred feet, Kakarot crushed the structure, the small thing, and the other small things inside. He did not want to waste time. The Voice was always so insistent, but it would shout less the more he killed and once it was quiet he could go hunt. Kakarot roared and sprinted off into the forest. He could smell more small things close by. Two of them, perched on a tree like flightless birds. Their perch gave with one small swat and when he looked Kakarot noticed he'd caught one of the small things in his hand. He sniffed it wondering if it might be appetizing. But then The Voice began crow again, forcing him to drop the creature and continue further into the forest. A great cluster of small things were near, a realization that made Kakarot roar triumphantly.

He sprinted towards them, his great feet beating on the Earth, causing the trees to tremble. It was like thunder except dull so that instead of crashing into the bodies of the Red Ribbon soldiers and jarring them to attention, it moved through them, paralyzing them as they tried to make sense of whatever was coming towards their camp. When they finally came into view Kakarot howled. So many small things! Hundreds rushing about and reaching for weapons to attack him with. Kakarot's next roar was an acceptance of their challenge.

Ki gathered in his mouth as he took aim at the nest holes from which the Red Ribbon Army attacked. He paid no mind to the pinpricks around his feet. Through his hide, Kakarot barely registered them and might not have noticed them at all if there had not been so many.

"Holy fuck!"

"Oh man. Oh man. Oh man."

"The hell is it doing?"

"Move, idiots!"

But they didn't. At least not fast enough to avoid Kakarot's attack. White energy seared the Earth, razing the Red Ribbon trenches, and the soldiers in them. Nothing was left except for the barrels of a few errant machineguns too far outside their machine gunner's nest to have shared the same fate.

Now the camp truly came alive, with men abandoning their previous positions and adopting new ones. Some that Kakarot could see were loading themselves into hard square things. Curious, he leapt to one, soaring far over much of the camp, and yet landing with uncharacteristic softness. A far cry from the heavy beating that had been his way only moments ago. Kakarot seized the vehicle and peered inside. How did it work he wondered as he sniffed the thing.

 _Kakarot,_ the voice began.

Fueled by frustration with The Voice and his own inability to disobey it, Kakarot slammed the vehicle into the ground before seizing another and bashing them together. He then stood fully erect, bringing more ki into his mouth. Kakarot was ready to be done with this. Burn everything. All of it. Let it be ended so he could be free of The Voice at least for a while. These things were so weak. So pathetic. He couldn't understand why it was important they all be killed before he had a chance to eat. But then a familiar scent reached his nose and Kakarot let the attack dissipate. He wondered what it could be. Letting his nose guide him, Kakarot realized the scent was coming from one of the vehicles. One that was rapidly speeding away.

Kakarot tore off a piece of metal from an abandoned Humvee at his feet and hurled it at the one rushing away. It found its mark, forcing the vehicle to stagger but then it righted itself and continued as if unbothered. Now, it was Kakarot's desire to pursue. This thing was interesting, and The Voice did not object. He wished to learn whatever this scent was. But it was now that the Red Ribbon Army had truly begun to find its footing. They'd adopted a broad spread out pattern with many of them mounted atop moving vehicles. Kakarot fired a ki blast at one to gauge their speed. They were quick yet lacked agility. It would be better to use his own hands for this.

Which he did.

* * *

Goku woke next to the bones of a T-Rex. The day was still cool, and the sun hadn't risen far above the horizon. _Morning,_ thought Goku. Lying on his stomach, the boy turned his head over to get a better look at his surroundings. He was near the outskirts of the forest and completely nude. The smell of blood still lingered on the skeleton meaning it was a recent kill, likely no more than a few hours old. His body ached and there was a small stinging sensation underneath his right eye. With some effort, Goku forced himself to sit up, shaking his head violently as he did so. There was the taste of raw meat, blood, and so much else Goku wanted to be rid of but right now he needed to get back on his feet. He needed to make sure Bulma hadn't been one of his victims.

The transformation always muddled with Goku's memory. Not just the night itself but also the moments leading up to the transformation became hazy. As if he were trying to discern the exact shape of something sitting at the bottom of a murky pond. Sometimes Goku would remember strong feelings of anger and resentment and in even rarer moments he could place colors and sounds to those feelings. This had once been enough to convince Goku he might be able to tame the transformation, to master it as he would any of his grandfather's lessons.

It had been a stupid, dangerous idea. And like all stupid, dangerous ideas someone else had been made to pay the price.

Goku forced himself to his feet and set off into the forest, looking for the telltale signs of humanity. He found them everywhere. Spokes, rubber, bits of metal and cloth, and more. There had been a huge battle, one that raged across the whole forest. Goku stopped in front of an upturned vehicle and peered inside. He noticed the corpse of the Red Ribbon soldier he had spared what felt like weeks ago seated in the passenger seat, rifle still in hand. If it weren't for the sickening bent in his neck, Goku might have thought the man asleep. But he was dead just like the man beside him and another in the trees overhead. This same scene repeated itself too many times as Goku trekked through the woods but never was there so much as a strand of light cerulean hair no matter where he looked.

Eventually the young boy came to some sort of large encampment where he stopped and kneeled. There had to be a survivor, he reasoned. One that could answer his questions about Bulma or at least tell him where they would take someone like her in case of an emergency. Maybe a fall back position. Taking a deep breath Goku cleared his mind. He opened himself to the vastness of the world, letting its energy flow through him. There amidst the fauna and animals that called these woods home was a single human speck, flickering like the flame atop a candle. It wasn't far, just beyond this big encampment he'd been wandering through, and it was larger than what was normal for a human although not by much.

With renewed zeal Goku stood and bounded towards the ki signature. As he ran, the boy wondered if it might be the man he'd fought. Certainly, if anyone survived his attack it would have been him. But the man had also seemed important and would thus have likely been one of the first to move to a safer location. That was the way armies operated, Goku mused.

"Help me," a weak voice said. "Help me," it repeated.

"Hang on!" Goku called out.

A woman with dark blue hair and wearing the uniform of the Red Ribbon Army lay amidst splintered wooden planks, weapons, and the battered corpse of an unidentifiable man. When Goku reached her, he placed both hands on her stomach and felt her ki more directly. Despite its size, the woman's ki was fading quickly. Her wounds were many and several may have been lethal in their own right. Ki could sustain someone's life through serious injury, even heal a person if they were trained enough in its deliberate use, but it was no panacea. Not unless you were as skilled in ki manipulation as Son Gohan had been which Goku was not. Still, he could share his own ki with the woman, allow her to replenish her spent stores, and maybe even nudge it in the right direction.

The two were covered in a pale blue glow as Goku called upon his inner life force and funneled it where the blue haired woman's should be. As far back as he could remember, Goku had always had an abundance of ki. Even his grandfather, a master martial artist with near a century worth of experience, often marveled at it. So, Goku reasoned, he should be able to safely siphon his excess into the woman and then she (who seemed to understand on an instinctual level how to keep herself alive) could take care of the rest.

It was slow work. Lacking elegance, Goku had to strong arm the transfer which, given the woman's condition, would sometimes cause her to cry out. This in turn would make Goku hesitant to continue further delaying the impromptu procedure. And then there were all the niggling doubts in the back of his mind. Try as he might, Goku could not reconcile the aura he was sensing with the reality of what must have been this woman's life. Her aura suggested she bordered on the angelic, yet how could such a person survive while working for the Red Ribbon Army. "Doesn't make sense," he mumbled. Then Goku swooned, collapsing on the woman's chest.

"Damn," he grunted. "Gave too much."

"Ow…" the woman complained.

"Sorry," said Goku before he could stop himself. "What's your name and rank?" asked the boy as he stood. The woman looked up at him, confused. "Your name and rank. You're a Red Ribbon soldier. I want to know your name and your rank!"

"My-my name is Launch," said the woman. "I don't know what the Red Ribbon Army is. I-I think you have the wrong me."

Goku blinked. "What?"

"I-" Launch began but then stopped. She suddenly turned a slight shade of red and looked away. "Um- I'm sorry but you're… kind of naked."

Goku gave Launch his worst glare. "Look, _Launch_ , do you see where you are? Do you see what you're wearing?" Evidently, she had not. Once Launch did take in the wreckage around her and laid eyes on the corpse of Mynares, the young woman began to scream. Her injuries forgotten, Launch sat up. "Stop that! Stop!" Goku ordered. "Look at me!" Launch complied and Goku stared directly into her eyes. "You really have no idea what's going on, do you?" Launch shook her head. "That's… not the best news."

"I'm sorry," said Launch. "The other me, she- she doesn't let me out much. Usually she takes these pills, but I guess she didn't. Or maybe I hit my head, I don't know." Launch buried her head in her hands. "Oh my god. What has she been doing? She said she was going to find us work and-"

"Stop." Goku was holding up a hand. "You're giving me information I have no context for. Save it for when we're someplace a little less… battlefield-y." The boy walked over the corpse of Mynares and removed the dead man's shirt. He slid the garment over his head and then cinched the belt around his waist. All together it looked like Goku had donned an olive-green tunic with a brown belt for support. "Try and stand." Launch did but quickly had to give up. The woman was not only still very hurt, she was also very weak. Most of her energy had gone into keeping her alive making any sort of exertion a no go. "I'll get you a walking stick." Goku turned away from her and began looking through the broken planks. Finding nothing suitable, he walked a short way further into the forest.

All the while Launch watched him. The woman no more knew what to make this boy than the boy knew what to make her. He was decidedly too at ease. No child- or adult for that matter- should be that comfortable rifling though a dead man's possessions. And the boy exuded an almost intimidating amount of determination. Whether it was asking a question or breaking apart fallen branches (with his bare hands no less!) Goku did everything with zeal.

"What's your name?" Launch asked when the boy returned, a makeshift quarterstaff in his hand.

"Goku. Son Goku," he said. "Yours?"

"Launch. Launch Bento." He nodded then helped her to her feet, the support stick doing wonders for her aching legs.

"There's food scattered all around the ground here. It doesn't look all that good, but you need to keep your energy up and we need to start moving. Red Ribbon Army will be all over this place eventually and I can't fight them off while taking care of you." Launch nodded as she accepted a protein bar Goku had snatched up off the ground. "Canteen on your hip probably has some water in it. If not, there's bound to be more at the main camp. Launch," he said looking up at her with his large brown eyes. "It's not gonna be pretty."

"I understand." Launch chewed on the food she'd been offered. It was hard and unpleasant, but she understood it was ultimately for her own good. "Thank you, Goku," she said, falling in step behind the boy.

"No problem," he said. "'We help people so they'll be around when we need help,' right?"

Launch smiled. "Right."

When they reached the camp, she had to close her eyes to steady herself.

"You ok?" Goku asked

"Yes," she said drawing a deep breath. "What… what could have done this?"

"A monster," said the boy in a faraway voice. Launch got the impression he was purposely avoiding looking at her and was busying himself by examining the camp. She was going to ask if he was alright when Goku's head snapped to right. "Wait here, Launch," said the boy before he ran off towards a half-collapsed tent. Launch was hesitant but complied. _Not like ya could chase after him in your condition anyway_ , a voice in the back of her mind said. So she waited the few minutes it took for Goku to reemerge, a red staff in his right hand, a large rolled up piece of paper in the other, and a look of triumph on his face. "Found a map!"

* * *

It had taken most of the morning, but Ng had finally returned to his professional self. He, Captain Blue, and Bulma sat in the same Humvee they had made their escape in, their brains too active for them to consider sleep. Bulma had awoken from her drugged haze shortly before dawn with the blood of McDonald still on her. She's been about to scream when a glare from Blue silenced her. Instead she'd retreated into her seat from where she cast mean looks at the two Red Ribbon soldiers. Ng didn't mind them or at least hadn't. For most of the day he'd been in shock over what had happened at the camp and the realization that he and the captain may be the only survivors was making his pulse quicken.

Captain Blue had radioed for orders and been told to hold while a rescue party was dispatched to his location. Despite the hours that had gone by no one from Command or from their battalion had appeared. After an especially tense minute, Blue had reached into a compartment underneath his seat determined to find something. "Come on, damn it," he'd said. "I know this is where all you idiots hide things." Ng was confused for a moment, even nervous, but then he realized what his commander was looking for.

"Sir?" said the young medic as he withdrew two cigarettes from his breast pocket. The captain's smile didn't reach all the way to his eyes, but the man was clearly very grateful none the less.

"You're a good man, Ng," said Blue. They smoked in silence, Blue only remembering to open the window as an afterthought. It was hot. So hot that you felt in the wind when it blew past. But what could he do?

"Mind spotting me one?" Both men turned to see their teen captive looking as defeated as they felt. Blue nodded, giving Ng permission to give the girl a cigarette and even light it for her. "Thanks," she said. "Oh fuck yeah, Royals."

"Speaking of which, Ng," said the captain to his subordinate. "This is quite good. I always figured you for one of those mentholated brands."

Ng grimaced. "No, sir," he said emphatically. "Menthols make me feel like I'm inhaling glass shards."

"Exactly!" Bulma again. She was waving her own cigarette angrily now, the cherry perilously close to extinguishing and leaving her cigarette unlit. "They're so gross. No idea how anyone can stomach them." The girl took a long drag that seemed to calm her then she snorted. "Why not just smoke a fucking mint leaf while you're at it."

Everyone laughed despite no one thinking the joke particularly funny or original. They smoked their cigarettes in silence and the mood became the lightest it had been since before Blue took this assignment. Ng looked out into the desert, Bulma fidgeted in her seat, and Blue played with Ng's lighter, flipping the lid open then closed. Tedious, repetitive things that let their minds reset while they wondered what would happen next. It fell on Ng to break the silence.

"Nobody else made it," he said.

"No," confirmed Blue. "Someone would have replied to our radio signal by now. Our furry assailant was very thorough."

"Furry assailant?" repeated Bulma.

"Yes," said Blue as he lit another cigarette (Ng had laid out his pack within reach of everyone except Bulma who had to stand and move to grab another). "A behemoth of an ape appeared just outside our camp. Fired _lasers_ from its mouth and massacred all of my men."

"Monkey, sir," said Ng. "It had a tail from what I remember which- um- which apes don't."

Blue looked at him then angled his head towards Bulma. "Well there you have it, Ms Briefs! A twenty-meter-tall monkey wiped out an entire Red Ribbon battalion. Should make for a _charming_ story to tell our forebears…" They were quiet again, Blue still looking intently at Bulma. At first the officer's gaze didn't bother her but as it dragged on the girl began to fidget more and more. And as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, Blue's gaze grew more and more calculating until-

Without warning, Captain Blue leapt towards Bulma. In one motion his left hand seized her by the neck, pinning her in place, and his right hand begin digging underneath her clothes. "What're you hiding?" he asked. She smacked at every part of him she could reach. "Stop that!" ordered Blue but she ignored him. So he struck her with the back of his hand, rattling the girl's brain and leaving her disoriented. "Now sit still." Bulma complied although not by choice. The blow had been strong enough to make her lose of sight of where she was and where Blue's right hand reaching.

"No," she mumbled near tears.

"Sir…" said Ng hesitantly but Blue ignored him. The captain continued to run his hand underneath Bulma's clothing totally indifferent to the girl's complaints. Then he stepped back, almost as quickly as he had jumped on the girl. Blue held up his right hand and Ng saw that there was now a Hoi Poi capsule held in it.

"This would have come out eventually, Ms Briefs," said Blue absentmindedly. "There'd have been a much more through search once you were transported to headquarters. I don't suppose you'll tell me what this is." Bulma remained quiet, hate etched on every contour of her face. "And here I thought you wanted to save us both some time. Oh well. Ng, be at the ready." The medic nodded and watched as his CO stepped out of the vehicle, into the hot dessert, and clicked the capsule release. A lockbox appeared at his feet.

"Where's the key?" asked Ng before he realized his commander was tearing off the box's lid.

"No need for that," said Blue. "She probably got rid of it. Now… Well this is strange. Dirty magazines, some sort of hand held GPS, and… large orange jewels." Blue held up Goku's four-star dragonball.

"That looks like a dragonball, sir," said Ng. "You know. From that old Shenlong myth. I'm from Orange Star City and their iconography is all over the place. Ever tourist shop has 'em but… I don't think I've ever seen one so beautiful."

Earth was a unique world. One where sorcery coexisted alongside advanced science, psionic ability, and much more. To the civilizations that populated the cosmos this was unheard of. No species had the plasticity of soul or mind required to entertain so many masters. Even two masters was considered an oddity and those races that could meld magic with science or ki with psionics were thought of to be truly blessed. Perhaps even favored by the higher powers. But humanity (or at least, the beings that populated Earth) were not favored. They were simply horribly disobedient and so rarely did as they should. Which is why someone like Blue, who held much latent psychic potential in him was slowly awakening to the world of ki. And it was why as he clutched the four-star ball in hand, he could feel the tremendous magical power contained within.

"Ng, I don't believe this is a mere recreation. And this-" Blue held up the dragon radar. "-isn't a GPS, is it, Ms Briefs? Ng, take this. I need to contact command."

* * *

A teen boy no older than sixteen lay it what must be the only shade for miles. He wore a dark green tunic with the kanji for easy displayed prominently on its front, sand worn orange pants, and a plain white sash around his waist. It was an odd selection for a desert bandit but Yamcha never did have the best dress sense. He liked it and that was enough for him. Besides. 'Easy living' was a damn good motto.

He watched as a vulture swooped down to land beside him, transforming into a blue cat like creature when its feet touched the sand.

"Anything, Puar?" asked Yamcha, sitting up to greet his friend and partner in crime.

"They're alone, Lord Yamcha!" Puar could barely contain his excitement. It had been months since they'd had a chance to restock their weapon supplies. And he'd look so cool in that gunner's seat! Once they cleaned it up a bit of course. "There isn't anymore Red Ribbon for miles."

"Something nasty must have happened near Mount Paozu," reflected the bandit as he stood. He traced a rune into the air and a sword appeared in his hand. "So anything we do to these guys they'll just blame on whatever messed up their main forces."

"Oh! Um. Lord Yamcha," Puar said hesitantly. "I think the third person is a prisoner. I didn't get a good look at them. Just the two in the front seats. And they looked pretty tough."

"That's fine," said Yamcha waving a dismissive hand. "We're hyenas, Puar. We're going to cheat anyway."

* * *

 _ **Thank you all for reading!**_

 _ **A quick note. In my headcanon Saiyans needed an extra level of assurance that the**_ ** _Ōzaru would do its job. The transformation makes a Saiyan much stronger but they're still just a wild, violent animal. They'll priotize things wild animals would. So the brainwashing/mental conditioning process that gives them their orders also nudges them towards actually seeking out native population clusters for the whole genocide thing._**


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